Christmas Island Murders
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: Molly is spending Christmas with her aunt on Conan Island when there is a suspicious death. Unbeknownst to Molly Sherlock gets called in and so the scene is set for a Sherlolly crime solving Christmas. Rated M for eventual smut.
1. Chapter 1

**So, here I am, somehow completely unprepared, posting the beginning of my Christmas fic.**

 **One thing you should know about me is that by the time I come to post a story it's normally written and just needs a final edit...but this one isn't finished yet...which stresses me. I mean it's mostly written...the crime and the romance but the final chapter so far eludes me but I'll need to come up with something before we get there.**

 **The title also eluded me. All I could think is it's Christmas, they're on an island and there are murders.**

 **Anyway, I hope you like the start.**

 **Chapter 1**

Molly could hear her phone ringing but she couldn't remember where she'd packed it. She'd been at her aunt's house on the island for four days now and so far she hadn't needed it but now it was ringing and she couldn't find it.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck...ah...hello.'

She answered without even looking at the screen so was caught completely unawares when she heard Sherlock's frustrated voice in reply.

'Molly, what took you so long? I've been calling you all morning.'

'Oh, sorry. I've been out and I didn't take my phone with me.'

'So I gather. Anyway I haven't got long I'm about to board and there'll be no signal. Meet me at the port in half an hour I want to see where the body was...'

'Sherlock...Sherlock...what the...'

Molly looked at the phone which was showing that the call had been cut off. Her mind was whirling with confusion. Surely he couldn't possibly be on his way...she was literally in the middle of nowhere, well almost. Her aunt lived on Conan Island which lay just over half an hour's boat ride off the Cumbrian coast. It was home to forty people on a good day, less now it was three days from Christmas and one less since they'd found the body of Robbie Sanders-Conan.

Molly remembered back less than 48 hours to when she'd heard a hammering on her aunt's front door before it was flung open. Pete had been stood there looking flushed and excited as his eyes locked on hers.

'Thank God you're here. Barry and me have found a body, we think it's Robbie, up by the old lighthouse. You're a doctor aren't you? I thought I'd try here first as your nearer than that old bastard up at the house.'

Her aunt had tsked in the background at his insult. 'Dr Piper might be a bit eccentric but he's looked after most of us at some point or another as you well know. It wouldn't hurt you to show him some respect.'

He'd rolled his eyes but smiled. 'Alright Aunt Evie.' Then he turned back to Molly. 'Can you come?'

'Yes, of course but I don't have any medical equipment. Are you sure he's dead?'

Pete shrugged. 'Looks it. I didn't like to get too close, left that to Barry, he's braver than me.'

'Well you go on to Dr Piper and I'll go and meet Barry and at least check for life signs.'

There hadn't been any. They'd called across to the mainland and a coroner and police officer had come over to retrieve the body and make some enquiries but they'd quickly put it down to suicide. It seemed he'd gone up to the top of the lighthouse and thrown himself off.

Molly had had her reservations and told them but they hadn't really wanted to hear them and so she'd been disregarded. None of that however explained how Sherlock had found out about the case and why he seemed to be on his way.

She made her way downstairs still absent mindedly holding her phone. Her aunt was sat in her normal chair by the fire knitting the new scarf that she'd promised Molly would be ready for Christmas Day.

'Problem dear?'

'I...I don't know. That was Sherlock...you know my friend, the detective that I told you about. He seems to be on his way here.'

'Is he? That's good. I know you were a bit bothered about that business with Robbie, maybe he can clear it all up.'

Her aunt seemed to be amazingly calm about this news and Molly felt a sudden wave of suspicion wash over her.

She made her way to the chair on the other side of the fireplace and sat on the edge leaning forwards.

'Auntie Evie what did you do?'

Her aunt glanced up at her between stitches and smiled before shrugging. 'I may have called him and told him what was happening. He seemed very interested.'

'But...it's almost Christmas...this must be getting on for the last ferry over from the mainland. He'll be stuck here.'

'Yes, I told him that too...and yet he's still on his way. What does that tell you?'

Molly's mind reeled but she couldn't come up with an adequate answer. She glanced at her watch.

'God, I'd better go if I'm to get to the harbour in time. Do we even have anywhere to put him? There's no room here.'

'I had a word with Dr Piper, he's arranging one of the retreat lodges to be made available. Bring him here though first, I'll make sure there's some hot chocolate ready for you both. He'll be needing it after that journey on such a cold day. Anyway, get along with you, you don't want to be late.'

Molly shook her head at her aunt's audacious behaviour but she bid her goodbye before leaving the warmth of the small cottage.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock had had the impression that the ferry would be something more substantial but it seemed to be little more than a fishing boat. He was grateful for his strong constitution as he hung onto the rail to stop himself from being barrelled about; the boat rolled relentlessly up and down as it gradually made its way across from the mainland to the small island in the distance.

It seemed not everyone was so fortunate and he turned his head away as one of his sea mates carried on throwing up into a sick bag. The man throwing up was part of a family of four on their way to the island to spend Christmas with a relative and he'd been initially sociable until he'd gleaned that they were connected to one of the farms on the other side of the island and therefore not connected to the murder; at which point his mask had dropped and he'd ignored them for the rest of the journey.

The only other traveller was an island local called Pete making his way back home after being on the main land for business. Their conversation had lasted longer as Pete professed to knowing Molly and also admitting to being one of the two men who had found the body.

'God it was awful. Me and Barry, my husband, we got married last year, we were just going for a walk like we often do after breakfast and there he was; all smashed up at the bottom of the lighthouse. It was obvious he was dead but I was too upset to go near him so I went for Molly; we knew she was a doctor and she was the closest. I mean you don't know what to do do you? It's not something you expect is it?'

As Sherlock started to question him they were interrupted by the mother of the family asking them not to discuss this subject in front of her two young children.

Sherlock had to bite back his response as Pete apologised before turning back to him. 'You'll have to come over to ours, with Molly, for dinner and some drinks. There's little else to do on the island and we love having people round. How about tomorrow evening and you can ask all the questions you want? Barry will be thrilled to have a real life celebrity detective to cook for and we love having Molly on the island. She's such a breath of fresh air.'

Sherlock accepted and the conversation petered out as the island started to come closer into view. It would appear and disappear with every swell of the waves and even Sherlock was grateful that he wouldn't be subjected to all this movement for much longer.

He thought back to that unexpected phone call the day before.

'Mr Holmes, my name is Evelyn Hooper. I hope you don't mind me contacting you but my niece Molly...'

Sherlock had gone from bored to concerned in a split second finding himself sitting more upright as his stomach swooped uncomfortably. 'Is she...is Molly...'

'Yes, yes she's fine but we've had an incident here on the island where I live and I thought you'd be interested. I know Molly won't want to disturb you because of the time of the year but from everything she's ever said about you I don't think seasonal frivolity is anything that appeals to you.'

'What's happened?'

'We've had a murder. The local police are calling it suicide but Molly knew the victim and saw the body and I know she has her concerns and I think I'm probably right in saying that we both trust Molly's judgement. Is that so?'

'Yes, yes it is.'

He spent several minutes questioning the old lady about the victim and the details around where and how the body had been found and then he fell silent.

'I should warn you Mr Holmes that should you come over you'll need to be quick. The eleven o'clock ferry tomorrow is likely to be the last before Christmas and you would be stuck here until at least the 28th possibly longer depending on the weather. We can offer you a warm welcome and a hearty Christmas meal if you like that sort of thing or peace and quiet if that's your preference.'

There really wasn't much of a decision for Sherlock at that point. It had been painfully quiet since Molly had left. Lestrade was too busy attending endless social events to do his actual job and John and Rosie were now packed up for their trip to John's sisters for Christmas. Which had left him with either Mrs Hudson for company or his family, neither of which was appealing to him.

He had packed and been on his way within the hour taking the long train ride up to Cumbria before staying overnight in a local hotel walking distance from the ferry. He'd spent the journey researching as much about the island as he could.

There wasn't that much to learn it seemed. It had been bought by the Conan family back in the early 1800's and used as a summer residence. They had built a large Manor House there and by the late 1800's one branch of the family was living there permanently, supporting the local farmers and building a small community.

The family had been losing money for decades and now the main residence was being rented out to a Dr Piper who ran a meditation and yoga centre. The owner, one Stephen Sanders-Conan had recently died and it seemed his son had returned to the island to claim his inheritance and now he was dead. Sherlock had asked Greg to make enquiries regarding both men's wills so he could see if there was a motive for murder. He had also asked for a copy of Stephen Sanders-Conan's autopsy and inquest documents in case this was more than a simple case of murder for him to investigate.

The one aspect in all of this that he wasn't focusing on at all was how fast he had agreed to come and how much of that decision involved Molly.

Those were thoughts that he kept pushing to the back of his mind but he knew he needed to tackle them at some point and probably sooner rather than later.

He watched the island getting ever closer until he could see the small harbour, only big enough for a handful of boats, and he started to make out figures waiting on the dockside.

His stomach swooped uncomfortably as he recognised the pink and purple scarf wrapped around the neck of one of those figures. She was there, waiting for him, as she always had been.

 **The scene is set and the players are assembled. Are you onboard as well? Let me know what you think so far xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for so many reviews and likes. I'm so glad that you enjoyed the start. A couple of things to mention; I was asked whether the island exists and in reality it doesn't, it's only a figment of my lurid imagination. The name is an homage to Arthur Conan Doyle to whom we are forever grateful for his creation of Sherlock Holmes.**

 **Secondly for some reason fanfic hasn't allowed me to reply to some of your review, so apologies if you haven't heard back from me...hopefully the issue will be resolved soon.**

 **I think that's all...shall we crack on...**

 **Chapter 2**

Molly found herself feeling a strange mixture of excitement and apprehension as she watched the ferry making its way into the harbour. She still couldn't quite believe that Sherlock was on it. When she'd arrived herself, a few short days ago, she had told herself that it would be good to have a break from him and everything that had happened recently; Mary's death, Sherlock's spiral back into drug use, the Baker St explosion and then everything that she'd heard about regarding Sherrinford and Sherlock's secret sister. It had taken a toll on all of them and she'd felt the need to escape.

That phone call and all the time they'd spent together at Barts recently wasn't healthy for her heart but she had long ago resigned herself to being single. Yes, she had the odd affair here or there but nothing serious; she couldn't bear to hurt anyone the way she had hurt Tom and as long as Sherlock was in her life, even though he was just a friend, no one else stood a chance.

She stamped her feet and rubbed her mittened hands together trying to stay warm. The temperature on the island was below freezing and the biting wind made it feel even colder. She was glad of the warmth of her aunt's house and was already looking forward to the hot chocolate...at least, that was if she could persuade Sherlock to indulge before getting started on the case.

She'd never spent Christmas on the island before. Summer holidays and Autumn breaks yes, never Christmas; but since her mum had died two years ago she'd spent the festive season alone in London and she hadn't wanted to endure it again, not this year. Her aunt had happened to invite her to spend the festive period on the island and Molly hadn't hesitated to say yes and she was glad she had.

She'd always got on well with her Aunt Evie, they had more in common than Molly had had with her own mother and her house was like a home from home for Molly holding all her childhood memories of holidays spent there with her parents in happier, simpler times.

She shook herself out of her reverie as the boat docked and she got her first sight of Sherlock, feeling that familiar constriction around her heart. His curls looked a little more wild and wind-blown than usual and his eyes were a vibrant blue today as they stood out in his pale face.

She made her way over to him as he made his way up the stone steps to the harbour carrying his bags along with him. As soon as he reached her he dropped the bags, gave her one of his most genuine smiles and bent to kiss her cheek in the way that he had twice previously and that were ingrained upon her memory. She wasn't sure whether she imagined it but he seemed to linger over it a moment longer than she would have expected; cold cheek pressed to cold cheek.

She removed a mitten and brought her hand up to his face. 'You're freezing. Why aren't you wearing a jumper?' She indicated to his suit and Belstaff which couldn't be affording him much warmth.

He smirked. 'A jumper! Do I look like John? My coat's warm enough. Shall we get going? I'd like to see where the body was found first and then we can talk to...'

'My aunt has made you some hot chocolate; she thought you'd like it after your long trip.'

Sherlock's mouth seemed to open and close like a fish as his brain processed this seemingly irrelevant and innocuous request. The detective in him told him to dismiss the offer outright but he had to admit he was cold and it had been an arduous trip and as he looked down into Molly's nervous face he found himself nodding.

'Ah...OK then, maybe your aunt could give me some useful background information on the history of the island and some of its residents, you can only pick up so much from police folders and Wikipedia. I take it we can rule her out as a possible suspect.'

Molly's face lit up in a most delightful way at his acquiescing to the invite and it seemed to warm his very soul.

'Yes, I think you can rule her out. She's still in good health for her age but I think pushing a grown man from a lighthouse might be a little beyond her capabilities.' She chuckled and gave him a smile. 'I'm not sure you can exclude me though.'

They had started making their way away from the harbour and up towards the small row of cottages about ten minutes away, where her aunt lived. Sherlock had initially looked around for a cab until Molly had laughingly told him that the only cab he might find on the island would be tractor shaped. His nose had scrunched up in disgust but he'd valiantly picked up his bags and walked alongside her.

'So, why can't I exclude you?'

Molly shrugged. 'Well, I knew the victim. More in my youth than now, we dated one summer, he...he was my first.'

Her eyes flicked to his face and away again as she said that last line.

Sherlock looked confused. 'Your first what...oh, a euphemism. You lost your virginity to him.'

When he looked back at Molly she had gone a delightful shade of pink which had nothing whatsoever to do with the cold wind.

'Yes, I did. But I hadn't seen him for nearly twenty years so I'm not sure what motive I could have now.'

'Oh I don't know. You could have secretly married and therefore you'd be in line to inherit. You could have borrowed money and not wanted to pay him back, you could have had a secret baby or lost one and held a long, deep seated resentment...should I go on?'

Molly stared at him open mouthed for a moment. 'No, no I think you came up with plenty. I'd deny it all but you already know none of that is true. You can probably tell by the way I wear my scarf.'

'No, just by the way you style you hair and the length of your laces.'

They both broke into chuckles at the ridiculousness of it all.

'Here we are...I think my aunt is looking forward to meeting you.'

'So, you've told her about me then. All good I hope...no, don't answer that we both know it would be a lie.'

He had to duck his head as he made his way inside what was a very small but cosy looking cottage. There seemed at first glance to be only two rooms downstairs, a front room which consisted of a three piece suite, the upright kind favoured by old people who struggled to stand up from a low seating position, a couple of footstools and bookcases and in pride of place in the corner was an artificial Christmas tree complete with tinsel, baubles and lights. Beyond was a reasonable sized kitchen, with old fashioned cupboards and implements and a large oak table with chairs alongside it; and beyond that a view behind to a small walled garden.

The fire was very welcome though as was the smell of the hot chocolate and freshly baked biscuits. It reminded him very much of Mrs Hudson's flat in Baker St.

To Molly the room seemed so much smaller with Sherlock in it. She was used to it just being her aunt and herself sharing the small space.

Sherlock politely greeted her aunt before being encouraged to take the seat by the fire so he could warm up. He seemed incongruous and out of place there. A part of her London life transported and dropped into her island life but she was in no way sorry to see him.

She hung his coat up along with her own and then sat down on the faded settee to drink her own mug of hot chocolate and eat one of her aunt's delicious oat and raisin cookies. It was a perfect blend.

After a few moments Sherlock spoke.

'I see the family resemblance with Molly. You're her father's sister, is that right?'

'I am yes.'

'And how long have you lived here on the island?'

'I came here when I was fresh from teaching college. I'd had other plans originally but...well, they'd fallen through and so I accepted a position here at the island school. It was only ever meant to be temporary but I fell in love with the place. It was more vibrant back then, more families and farms. Don't get me wrong, never more than a handful of children but enough. It didn't last though, kids don't want to stay on as they grow; they left for the mainland, for easier jobs and better lives. Luckily for me by the time the school was closed I was able to take retirement. Trouble is without a school there's even less to keep people on the island. It's only kept alive now by the meditation centre and the holiday makers but...well, it will see me out.'

'How many other permanent residents are there?'

'Ooh let me see. Most are connected to the farms. Here, in what passes for the centre, there are a few families; most are away for Christmas having left before the death. Of those that are still here there's myself, Barry and Pete, two door up; the Bakers, Matt and Kirsty, they run the little store cum pub at the end of the row. They have a two year old daughter Ellie and Kirsty's dad Keith lives with them. Kirsty and Keith have lived here all their lives…well, bar a spell in her twenties when she moved away. She found Matt, married him and then moved back to take over the shop from her dad as he was getting on and was recently widowed.'

Sherlock couldn't help but notice a faint blush on Evelyn's cheeks as she talked about Keith and he was sure there was some affection there…he'd be able to confirm it in time but it hardly seemed relevant to the case.

Molly's Aunt continued. 'Anyway Molly can probably tell you more about Kirsty, they've been friends for years.'

'The only other residents this side of the island are those up at the Manor House. Dr Piper moved here five years ago and opened up the meditation centre. He rents the house and grounds from the Conan family. His sister joined him. She's younger by quite some way…step-sister I should add, same mother but not sure who her dad was. I don't even know if she knows. Anyway, she runs the exercise classes for the residents of the centre. Then they have Ricky, you must remember him Molly, Ricky Wellsley. He's not the brightest tool in the box, not sure he's ever left the island but he loves it here…it's his whole world. He acts as a bit of a groundsman stroke odd job man for Dr Piper. He's the only staff at this time of year when it's quiet and he turns his hand to whatever they want. I believe there are a couple of visitors there at the moment but I'm afraid I know nothing about them.'

Sherlock finished his hot chocolate and put his mug down on the coffee table before standing. 'That's OK I'm sure I can find that out for myself. Well, thank you for the hot chocolate and food Miss Hooper it was very welcome and I'll no doubt pick your brains further on the residents.'

'You're welcome. And call me Evie or Aunt Evie, everyone does.'

Sherlock gave a quick nod and looked at Molly. 'Come on then Molly we can't dither here all day I need you to show me where the body was found, you never know for once the police might not have destroyed all the evidence.'

He gave her a quick smile and raised his eyebrows as she chuckled. He threw her her jacket and then put his own coat on, pulling his scarf and gloves out of the pocket adding them to his outfit to keep himself warm as much as possible.

Evie stood to see them out and put a hand on Sherlock's arm. 'If you're keeping my Molly out after dark would you see her back here? I don't like the thought of her being out at night with a murderer on the loose. It's a sad day on this island when you don't feel safe but I'd hate for anything to happen to my Molly it would devastate me.'

Molly started to protest but Sherlock covered Evie's hand with his own gloved one and he looked her in the eye. 'I'll keep her safe, I promise. You're not the only one who'd be devastated.'

He turned to the door and missed the blush and shy smile on Molly's face.

 **There you go, a bit more background about the island and the residents. Just need to set the scene before we can get on to the more interesting stuff. Just some hints of the feelings hidden below the surface. I hope you're still enjoying it. xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, I'm back again and this time we're officially into December...the countdown begins. I hope you all have good plans for the holidays.**

 **Before we go on I just want to thank each and every one of you that voted for any of my fics in the recent SAMFAs. I was overwhelmed by the amount of my fics that received a first, second or third place and I am truly grateful for all your encouragement and support.**

 **Chapter 3**

Sherlock collected his bags and made his way to the door as Molly said her goodbyes to her aunt.

'Thanks for that Auntie E.' She started to follow Sherlock, pulling on her gloves as she went. 'Do you want to drop your bags off in your room first or leave them here and head to the lighthouse?'

'We can go via the room save me coming back.'

Evelyn followed them to the door. 'Well, so long as you come round for a meal one evening. Otherwise, Mr Holmes, I will hunt you down. I can be quite stubborn when I put my mind to it.'

Sherlock arched an eyebrow and smiled. 'Sounds like Molly may have inherited more from your side of the family than just her good looks.'

Evelyn gave him a shrewd smile. 'So, you can be charming when you put your mind to it?'

Sherlock smirked and this time he had noticed Molly's shy blush at his reference to her attractiveness. Whilst he'd said it without thinking about it it by no means lessened the truth of his words but he was conscious all of a sudden that he probably hadn't ever honestly told Molly how he felt about her looks.

The biting wind made him wince as he headed outside with his luggage with Molly close behind him. He'd already forgotten just how cold it was and a small part of him did acknowledge that maybe a couple of warm jumpers wouldn't go amiss.

He followed Molly up a steep, narrow path which led up behind the houses that sat on the outer edge of the harbour. As they got to the top of the rise he looked over towards the lighthouse which he could see in the distance on the right. It looked to be about three quarters of a mile away. More than manageable distance wise though it might be getting dark by the time they were returning. This far up North it was likely to be mid-afternoon when the sun started setting.

As the path widened out they fell into step besides each other and Sherlock asked Molly about her history with the place.

She smiled wistfully and he immediately knew that it held a lot of memories for her, no doubt intertwined with those of her dead parents. He wondered what she would have been like as a child. She was such a mixture of light and dark; always so happy and optimistic but so intrinsically linked to death and darkness. She was something of an enigma and over the last few months he had found himself wanting to find out more.

'I came over with my parents most years for our summer holidays. They'd normally rent a cottage or when they were skint we'd camp and we'd spend our days walking or on the small beach the other side of the lighthouse. There were a few more kids on the island back then and I knew them all and given how small this place is my parents gave me so much more freedom here than I had back at home in Leicester. I loved it.'

'My visits tailed off as I got older. I was so caught up with University and then work but I came back about five years ago with my mum and then after she died Auntie Evie invited me back. I find it peaceful here...well normally I do and I don't know...I feel closer to my parents. They used to dream of retiring here. My dad used to joke about keeping bees would you believe.'

She laughed and Sherlock frowned. 'Well, there's nothing funny about that, I have the same ambition myself.'

Now it was Molly's turn to frown. 'What, retiring to an island?'

'No, keeping bees. I find them endlessly fascinating; I've even thought I might write a book on them after some more serious study. London is not conducive to keeping them though and I have no plans to leave there at the moment so it will have to wait until I retire.'

Molly looked at him agog. She had never known him to express interest in any other subjects other than crime, drugs and tobacco ash and this seemed just as disparate as each of those. She shook her head and led the way through the grand gates into what was now the Piper Meditation Centre.

Unlike the ruggedness of the rest of the island the lawns here were neatly manicured with plant filled borders and imported trees. The house was an imposing stone structure which bore all the signs of its Victorian gothic roots. It wasn't large by mainland standards but was larger by far than all the other properties on the island that Sherlock had seen.

Off to the left and behind some established bushes was a row of what clearly used to be workman's cottages or servant's quarters. Molly informed Sherlock that they were now converted into holiday cottages either for rental or for people attending the meditation centre.

She led him to the end one which had a key left in the door.

'Not much need for security here. Auntie said they'd leave it open for you, save us having to go up to the main house.'

She opened the door and held it as Sherlock made his way in. The property was small but adequate for his needs. There was a large old king sized bed with its headboard against one wall and a fireplace against the opposite wall; it was already set up for him to light if he wanted to later and he already knew he'd want to, there seemed to be no other form of heating in the property other than the thickness of the stone walls which at least offered some insulation from the incessant wind.

There was a door off to one side which was obviously a bathroom and the wall next to the front door held a small kitchen. Literally just a table top grill and hob powered by a calor gas bottle underneath, a sink and a kettle.

'Most people who stay here eat up at the main house but the meals there are communal. You're expected to help make them and then clear up afterwards.'

He could see Molly trying to suppress a smile as she spoke and his own face twisted in a grimace of disgust.

'Yes, well I'm sure I can find some provisions and cater for myself. I don't eat much when I'm on a case anyway.'

'Or you could just eat with auntie E and myself...I mean, if you want to.'

Sherlock didn't answer. Instead he dumped his bags on the bed and then excused himself whilst he went to the loo. It all seemed clean and serviceable in there with a shower over the ancient looking bath.

Molly was perched on the battered brown leather settee waiting for him as he came out. It was situated in front of the fireplace and was the only form of seating other than a small round table with two wooden chairs near the kitchen. Sherlock figured he'd be able to set up his laptop there. Molly had already assured him that there was wifi in the lodge and the code was on a piece of paper sellotape to the wall above the kitchenette.

She stood as she saw him and smiled nervously and he wondered what she had to feel nervous about. He couldn't believe it was him, she hadn't really been nervous around him for a couple of years at least, since he'd come back from the dead. He was conscious however of his own reactions to her. His eyes would linger a little longer than they used to, his heart would pick up speed a little and his mouth would feel drier.

'Enough!'

He saw Molly jump a little at his sharp tone. 'Sorry?'

He shook his head. 'Nothing, it's not you. Come on, let's go. Will we need a torch? It will be dark by the time we are coming back.'

At this Molly smirked and dug her hand in her coat pocket pulling out a rubber-cased, black torch. 'It's standard practice to have a torch at the moment, dusk starts around 3.30 and when it does get dark it's very dark…pitch black if there's no moon out.'

He locked up the lodge as he left. It was probably safe but he didn't like the idea of anyone snooping through his things and then he followed Molly back out of the grounds. She took a different and more direct path to the lighthouse but it was narrow again and he had to walk behind her most of the time. He asked her more about the potential murder victim as they went.

'Robbie…well…he's a couple of years older than me. Like I said earlier we knew each other when we were younger. He seemed really sophisticated when I was a kid. His family had a bit of money so he had all the best clothes and gear and being that little bit older meant by the time I was eighteen and here for a visit before going to Uni he was already a student at Leeds. He seemed so cool.' She chuckled to herself and Sherlock found himself hating this guy just a little.

'I think he studied Chemical Engineering but I remember him saying he wished he'd done something else. I heard from Auntie that he'd ended up getting a job in Manchester working some firm or other but she never mentioned him getting married or having kids or anything. To be honest, I think he was a bit of a player.'

Sherlock scrunched up his nose. 'Player?'

Molly smirked at him. 'You know…played the field, slept around. I don't think he liked being tied down. He certainly wasn't faithful with me.' Her face fell a little and Sherlock found himself glad that this man was already dead so he wouldn't have the urge to punch him.'

He glanced up and saw how much closer the lighthouse was.

'Did you see him this visit?'

'Only very briefly, the day after I arrived. It was also the day he died. We bumped into each other just outside the shop in the morning. We exchanged pleasantries and promised to catch up more later in the week. He'd come here because of his father's death, said something about having lots of plans for the place and that he had to go because he was meeting with Dr Piper. That's part of the reason why I don't think it was suicide. He wasn't that upset by his dad's death, they had never been close; his dad was always too busy to spend much time with him. And…well, he seemed excited. I don't know what his plans were though.'

Sherlock nodded. 'We need to get access to his room. I take it he was staying in the Manor House.'

'Yes, his dad still had a suite of rooms there even though the rest was rented out and Robbie mentioned that that was where he was. Right…here we are.'

Molly paused about five metres away from the lighthouse and Sherlock knew that she'd done so to give him a chance to look for evidence before she walked over anything. He was stunned again by just how much she understood him and his resistance to her broke down just that little bit more.

 **You know I have to say I was surprised how many of you think you know who the killer is...if you have a guess then let me know who did it. I won't give any clues away though if you're wrong or right. And if you have no guess then let me know what you thought of this chapter. Take care my lovelies xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so sorry for how long this has taken to post. I really meant to get it up earlier but it seems to have been a busy week. I need to get a shuffle on and post more chapters otherwise you'll be reading about Sherlock and Molly's Christmas in mid-May!**

 **Chapter 4**

Molly stayed still whilst Sherlock swept past her. His back was bent and his eyes were intently focused on the ground scouring it for whatever clues it could give him. She loved watching him like this, so completely engrossed in a case, his brain moving at a thousand miles a second; seeing things she had never noticed and would never notice in a million years. It was this intensity that had contributed to her falling in love with him. Of course it didn't hurt that all that energy and intellect was wrapped up in a gorgeous body.

He swept his coat backwards as he hunched down, his fingers gently moving the grass to be able to better see what was beneath it. Molly took a step forwards and peered over his shoulder. 'What is it? Have you found something?'

Sherlock glanced up at her. 'Not really, signs of multiple footsteps which is to be expected. No obvious signs of any struggle. Show me where the body was found…exactly.'

Molly pointed over to the base of the lighthouse which was strewn with rocks and boulders interspersed with tired looking grass.

She made her way over with Sherlock following, his eyes still trained on the floor. She waited patiently until he had finished and then she crouched down. 'His head was roughly here. He was lying on his back with his feet there. His body showed all the signs you would expect from a fall from that height with numerous breakages and contusions. He had been killed by the fall and had been there overnight…at least twelve hours which given he was found at 8.45 am would put the time of death the evening of the night before. No earlier than 4.00 pm, that's taking into account how cold it was that night which obviously preserved the condition of the body more than it would have in higher temperatures.'

Sherlock knelt down next to her and she was acutely conscious of how close he was; their knees were almost touching.

'So, why do you think he was murdered?'

'I already mentioned he was making plans…'

'No, that's not why. Come on Molly.'

She took a deep breath. 'I turned the body checking the injuries to the back of his head and spine. I know I should have waited until the forensic team arrived but come on…look where we are. There was never going to be a forensic team. I'm not even sure where the nearest one would be.'

Sherlock nodded accepting her reasoning and gestured for her to continue.

'There was a deep contusion on the back of his skull. Not enough to kill him on its own but it would certainly have disabled him, made him easy to handle and push over the edge. But look where he landed…his head was on the grass and there are no stones or rocks here.' She placed her hand flat on the grass as if to prove her point.

It was Sherlock who picked up her line of reasoning. 'Nothing on the ground to cause that trauma so it must have been done prior to the fall.' He looked up at the top of the lighthouse and Molly's eyes got caught on the length of his throat and the side profile of his jawbone and she found herself wanting to kiss her way up it. Arousal flooded through her catching her by surprise and when he suddenly turned his head to look at her she blushed knowing he could probably see that arousal all over her face.

She wanted to look away from him but she couldn't and for a couple of seconds they just looked at each other and she felt her heart beating hard in her chest as she saw his eyes travel down to her lips….but then he stood and the moment, whatever that moment was, was broken.

'How do we get up there? Is it kept locked?'

She followed him around to the ancient wooden door set in the base of the stone structure.

'God no, hasn't been for years. It was last used back in the 1960's but then modern technology took over and it just became a relic. Anything of value was removed and it was locked but someone broke in, probably kids, and no one ever came to repair it. It's been the local teenagers hang out ever since. Most kids either took their first drink of alcohol, smoked their first cigarette or lost their virginity here.'

She knew she was blushing once again not just at the memory of her own first time but at the fact that she'd told Sherlock and no doubt he'd be thinking about it too. She wondered, not for the first time, if sex actively disgusted him or if he was just ambivalent about it.

'Wh..where did you lose yours? Your virginity that is…that is if you have.' Molly couldn't quite believe she'd asked him and it seemed neither could Sherlock because he turned to her with a bemused look on his face.

'That's a bit personal isn't it Molly?' He was smirking as he said it though so she knew he wasn't really offended.

She found herself shrugging. 'I know, but…well, I told you mine…'

He chuckled and turned back to the door tentatively opening it. 'Fine, it was with the daughter of one of the masters at my boarding school. I was fifteen and she was eighteen.'

'Oh.' Molly desperately wanted to ask him if he'd enjoyed it and whether he'd done it again since but she just couldn't.

'My first time with a guy was in a crack house in my late teens. I don't remember too much about that.'

Molly's heart thudded down to her stomach and her responding 'oh' sounded so much more shocked than her first. She didn't have a problem with someone being gay but maybe that was why he wasn't interested in her.

'Torch.'

His demand and outstretched hand pulled her from her thoughts and she scrabbled in her pocket before handing it over. He definitely had an amused look on his face as he took it from her.

'You don't have a problem with that do you Molly?'

What could she say…yes I do, I want you to be straight so you'll shag me…'what? With you being gay? No, of course not.'

He smirked and turned away. 'Good.'

There was a brief pause and Molly's heart sank again…she had never stood a chance with him…ever.

'Not that I am actually gay. I'm not, I just enjoyed the experiment but it did confirm that I prefer women. Anyway, come on.'

He flicked the light on, illuminating the dank room and Molly felt her mood lift in more ways than one.

She shook her head in disbelief as she followed him up the circular stone steps embedded in the walls of the building. That had to qualify as one of her weirder conversations with Sherlock and she had so many more questions now than she had answers. So, he preferred women but didn't have sex or hadn't had a relationship other than that one with that cow, Janine. Then she mentally berated herself knowing she wasn't being fair to Mary's bridesmaid, she knew that Sherlock had used her for a case but the thought of him with her still stung.

Then there had been that woman that he'd recognised from just her body…had he been with her? She'd never had proper answers on that one, not that she'd ever asked anybody. She'd been tempted to ask Mary to see if she knew more but she'd never quite got around to it.

Her initial delight soon gave way to low spirits though as she came back to that one pertinent fact…he wasn't interested in her. He never had been. She held the memory of him telling her he loved her close to her heart but he hadn't meant it. He'd said it to save her life and if he meant it at all it was just platonically but it had still been both incredibly wonderful and hideously painful to hear.

They stopped at the first floor of the lighthouse and Sherlock took a look around the dusty space. The windows weren't big enough for anybody to go through but he still explored the whole room. It had once been the living room of the lighthouse keeper but there wasn't much left behind, just an old table with a broken leg and some empty crates. The crates were in a circle and there were empty cans, bottled and fag ends littering the floor.

The next floor was in a similar situation but with an ancient mattress on the floor covered by a more modern blanket. It seemed the place was still being used for the same purposes as always. Molly smiled as memories of an awkward first time with Robbie came back to haunt her. He'd been sweet and gentle and even though neither of them had loved the other she'd never had any regrets about sleeping with him. It had been a summer of fun before going to university and she'd gained in technique and confidence by the time they left the island.

They circled their way up to the final level and it was here that Sherlock spent the most time. Once again there were numerous marks in the dust and dirt that had gathered on the floor and he pointed out definite signs of drag marks. He took out his camera and had Molly holding the torch, shining light onto the places he wanted to photograph. He also took photos of the balcony edging above where the body was found and the ground beneath…not that much could be seen now as the sun was rapidly setting and darkness was spreading over the island.

Whilst he finished his observations Molly stood on the iron balcony which ringed the old light housing. There was just a small room where the equipment used to be housed and that was what Sherlock was examining. Meanwhile Molly looked out over the island and the sea in the bracing cold air. She loved this spot. She'd stood here a thousand times and been relaxed by it each and every time but not today; instead her thoughts were on Robbie and a life cut short. She'd never loved him but she had liked him and he hadn't deserved to die like this. She vowed to help Sherlock do whatever he needed to do to solve this murder.

Finally she felt rather than heard Sherlock moving behind her before leaning on the balcony at her side and looking out at the stars that were starting to be seen in the sky.

'You like it here.'

It was a statement rather than a question but Molly answered anyway. 'Yes, I always have. Don't get me wrong I love living in London and wouldn't want to live anywhere else at the moment but I love coming back here. It grounds me, reminds me of my parents and my family. I don't feel so alone here.'

Sherlock turned to her and she glanced at him pausing when she saw a strange look on his face. He seemed concerned and she was even more surprised when he put his gloved hand over hers where it rested on the edge of the balcony rail.

'I know I'm not always a very good friend to you Molly….but I hope you know that you aren't alone…that you don't need to feel alone in London.'

Molly put her other hand over his and smiled. 'I know…and thank you. I think…well…it's just been a hard year hasn't it…what with Mary and everything…'

Sherlock sighed and nodded. 'Yes…yes it has.'

They stayed like that for another couple of minutes, taking quiet comfort in a shared pain, before making their way back down to the base of the lighthouse.

 **Tell you what if you ask nice enough I'll post another chapter quickly...what do you think...are you up for that?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow, to a man you all asked for more and who am I to deny you. Thank you all for being so enthusiastic and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much xx**

 **Chapter 5**

By the time they started to walk back towards the houses darkness had fallen completely over the island. Molly followed the paths using the torch and Sherlock followed Molly and on the whole they managed OK. The only hiccup was when a rat ran across the rocky path in front of Molly and, surprised, she screamed a little and stepped backwards only for Sherlock to barrel into the back of her.

His momentum nearly knocked her over and it was only the quick looping of his arm around her waist that stopped her falling.

For a couple of seconds the whole length of his front was pressed against her back and she could feel the strength in his arm holding her up and she wasn't quite sure if her heart was pounding because of the rat or because of Sherlock's proximity. She felt his breath by her ear and then he chuckled. 'I didn't think you'd be squeamish about rodents Molly.'

He let her go and she turned to face him, scowling. 'I'm not…it just surprised me that's all.'

'Do you want me to lead?' He reached for the torch and she pulled her hand away, putting it behind her back protectively.

'No, no, I'm fine. Come on let's keep going.'

She couldn't help but remember the feel of him though as she carried on walking and she found her traitorous body longing to be in his embrace once more.

As they came to the row of houses where her aunt lived Molly slowed and Sherlock came alongside her.

'You're welcome to have some dinner at ours if you want. My aunt won't mind.'

Sherlock paused and looked up towards the Manor House. 'No, not tonight; I have things to think about.'

'OK, well we should buy you a few provisions at least. I'm sure you want some coffee and sugar. The shop's still open…well, I say shop, it's also the only pub on the island and it's the post office as well. If you want anything here, that's the place to go.'

Sherlock quirked his lips into a smile. 'We'd best go there then.'

She smiled back at him and led the way. It still felt so strange having him here on this island that held so much history for her. It was as though the two separate halves of her life were overlapping and colliding for the first time. Plus, other than that one day that they'd spent together crime fighting after his return from the dead she'd never spent so much time alone with him. She was surprised at how easy it all felt…fun even. It was certainly livening up her holiday...then she felts twinge of guilt at enjoying herself at Robbie's expense.

She opened the door to the pub and the heat that hit her was so welcome that she groaned out loud, missing the way Sherlock swallowed heavily behind her as he watched her briefly closing her eyes and enjoying the warmth on her face.

They made their way inside and before they'd even got their bearings Molly was being warmly greeted by the woman behind the counter.

'Molly…Molly Hooper as I live and breathe. Matt said you were in here on Tuesday. I expected you to come and say hello yesterday but I supposed you were all caught up with that business about Rob.'

Molly took her mittens off and made her way over and the two women reached over the counter to hug each other. Sherlock meanwhile cast a glance over the medium sized establishment and was amused to see that Molly's description was right. The left hand side of the space was very much a pub with half a dozen tables and a reasonable selection of beers and spirits but the right hand side was filled with racks of food and other regularly required household items. The end of the bar nearest the shop side was sectioned off and there were the accoutrements of a post office. It seemed the place really was a "jack of all trades". He made his way into the shop half and picked out a few bits and pieces that he would need over the next day or so and then made his way back to Molly who was still excitedly catching up with the owner who was obviously a friend.

'So, Molly; I see you have a fella, you sly dog, your aunt never said anything.'

Molly blushed and looked down at the floor. 'No, he's just a friend. Sherlock, this is Kirsty Baker, Kirsty this is Sherlock.' She looked up at Sherlock and smiled. 'I've been friends with Kirsty since I was about five. She grew up on the island.'

He nodded. 'Yes, I remember your aunt mentioning her.' He pulled off his glove and held out his hand. 'Sherlock Holmes, friend of Mollys and I'm pleased to meet you.'

As Kirsty shook his hand she put her other hand on her chest. 'Oh my God, you're him aren't you? The one Molly fancies.'

'Kirsty!'

Sherlock chuckled at Molly's mortified expression and her friend slapping her hand across her mouth. 'Yes, unfortunately Molly does appear to have very bad taste in men.'

'Oh I can't believe I just said that. Molls I'm so sorry. Listen have a drink on the house. What'll it be?'

Molly shook her head but smiled indulgently. 'For that I'll have a large hot toddy…I need something to warm me up. Sherlock?'

'Make that two…and can I pay for these items?'

Kirsty glanced over them. 'I'll make you up a tab and you can pay before you leave the island. How does that sound?'

'It sounds very trusting of you.'

Kirsty was bustling about pulling out the whisky and setting about making their drinks. 'Yes, well we're a close knit, trusting community here. At least, we were. I still can't believe that Rob killed himself. I'm assuming that's why you're here Mr Holmes. Do you think it was murder?'

Molly had perched herself on one of the bar stools and Sherlock followed suit enjoying being able to sit down after their hike in the dark. 'Please call me Sherlock…and the answer to your question is yes, I do think it was probably murder although I still have more evidence that I need to collect.'

Kirsty placed the warm glasses in front of them and then leant on the bar, obviously in no rush to leave them, though in fairness as they were the only people in there it wasn't as though she was rushed off her feet.

Sherlock took of his gloves and scarf and decided to question Kirsty...she seemed like someone who would hear plenty of gossip. 'So, what was your history with the victim?'

'Eww, the victim…that makes it sound so impersonal. I don't know, I mean Rob was a friend. I've known him for years, just like Molly here. We went to the same primary school together, ages didn't really come into it, it was just one class with Miss Hooper, Aunt Evie in charge. She was such a lovely teacher. When he was old enough he was sent to boarding school but he'd still come back for the holidays.'

Sherlock took a sip of his drink and savoured the burning sensation down his throat. The hot liquid heated his insides and the alcohol gave it a sharp taste.

'Did you have a relationship with him?'

She laughed. 'What, you mean did I go out with him?' She turned and started fussing with the bottles, straightening them up.

'If you want to be that coy…or I could just ask outright if you ever had sex with him.'

A male voice responded from the corridor at the back of the shop. 'Sex with who?'

The man sounded angry and looked it as he emerged from the shadows into the main body of the room.

'I was asking if your wife had ever slept with Robbie Conan-Saunders.'

Matt Baker was a good couple of inches taller than Sherlock and substantially wider but Sherlock didn't feel at all intimidated. He was more than capable of handling himself if he had to and he suspected that Matt Baker was the sort to hit people weaker than himself and behind doors, not men in public.

He turned to his wife. 'Well, did you?'

'No, God, no. Of course I didn't. We were just friends that was all…isn't that right Molly?'

'Oh..err yes I suppose so. I never heard any gossip about you two.' Molly looked nervously between her friend and her husband and Sherlock knew that she was suspicious about their relationship and why her friend suddenly seemed so nervous.

'Good, well that's good. So, who are you then and why are you asking about my wife's sex life?'

He was making an effort to loom over Sherlock but Sherlock just ignored him, sipping on his drink as casually as if he was at home. 'I'm just enquiringly about the recent death you've had here on the island, that's all.'

'What? That fucker from the big house, I thought that was suicide. He looked like the type to me.'

'And what type is that exactly?'

'You know, posh boy, not used to hard work. Thought he could swan back and lord it over us all and probably realised quite quick that there was nothing here for him.'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. 'He had an inheritance; house, land, money.'

'Yeah, well maybe. Anyway, I haven't got time to be gossiping, that's what girls do.' He gave his wife one last look which was more of a sneer and then left.

Kirsty giggled awkwardly. 'Don't mind Matt, he's just in a bad mood at the moment. It's hard for him being cooped up on this island, he's not used to it, finds it all a bit claustrophobic.'

Molly reached her hand out and lowered her voice. 'Kirsty are you OK, I mean he isn't violent or anything is he?'

At this her friend straightened up and looked angry. 'No, of course not. How could you think such a thing? Matt's right, I shouldn't be wasting my time gossiping. Let me know if you need another drink otherwise I'll see you around.' She turned and made her way through to the shop and started to noisily stack some shelves.

Molly looked at Sherlock and shrugged. 'Oops, well that didn't go so well. Was I wrong?'

'No, but she's not ready yet. Give her time.'

He saw Molly's face fall at his confirmation and she looked over at her friend sadly and he found himself wanting to comfort her, to put a smile back on her face. He was about to say something, though he wasn't quite sure what, when the door opened letting in an icy blast of air. It was Pete from the boat and Sherlock deduced that the man with him must be his husband, Barry. They both greeted Molly warmly and shook Sherlock's hand.

He wasn't in the mood for idle chit chat though and after agreeing to go to their house with Molly for dinner the next night he stood and made his excuses.

Molly came with him to the door. 'Hey, take the torch. I only have to go three doors down so I won't need it. Do you want me to come and see you tomorrow?'

He looked at her in confusion. 'Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I? You know I need an assistant. Not too early though, I rarely get up before ten.'

She rolled her eyes but smiled. 'Fine, I'll come up at ten.'

'Oh and you can bring some breakfast if you want. I didn't get any food.'

He held up his bag of groceries which just contained drinks and cigarettes.

'Until tomorrow then Molly.' Then just because he could he bent and kissed her on the cheek.

 **A few more characters introduced and hopefully the plot is thickening. I know a few of you want some more Sherlolly and it is coming, I promise, just be patient. As for another chapter, I may...just may, give you another. What do you say to that?**


	6. Chapter 6

**After so many wonderful reviews how can I refuse giving you all another chapter. Hope those of you that celebrate are starting to get in the Christmas spirit. I'm hearing about lots of snow both here and abroad but in my tiny part of the world there's been nothing…not even a dusting…just rain !**

 **Chapter 6**

Molly made her way back to Pete and Barry who were sat watching her with smiles all over their faces. She frowned in confusion. 'What? Why are you both looking like that?'

It was Barry that answered. 'You like him don't you. And by like him I mean you want to shag him ten different ways from Sunday.'

Molly burst out laughing and knew she was blushing. 'Fine…fine, I like him but that's as far as it goes.'

'But why, he obviously likes you as well given that kiss he gave you.'

Molly shook her head and picked up her newly refilled glass. 'No, we're just good friends. He doesn't like me like that. I'm not sure he likes anyone like that.'

Now it was Barry's turn to frown. 'No, don't tell me he's asexual coz depriving the world of his body would just be a crying shame. He's way more handsome than Pete made out.' He shot Pete a black look and his husband responded with a chuckle and a shrug of his shoulders.

Molly laughed. 'Well you don't have to tell me that. He's taken up more room in my fantasies than all my actual boyfriends put together.'

'Well, that seals it then. We need to fix you two up, starting tomorrow night.'

Molly looked horrified. 'No, please…please don't embarrass me. You've no idea what he can be like if he thinks he's being manipulated.'

Barry patted the back of her hand. 'Shush now, leave it all to your fairy godfather…I'm good at this.'

Molly shook her head and took a deep draught of her drink wondering just how worried she should feel.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock enjoyed his walk back to the lodge despite the bitter cold. The island felt like a haven from all the hustle and bustle in London. He was never a fan of Christmas and all the garish lights and music in the city at this time of year was just jarring and interminable. He could well understand Molly's love of this place for giving her a break.

By the time he made it to his lodge the wind was starting to pick up and he knew they were in for a storm. He could hear the waves distantly crashing on the rocks and the harbour walls and he was glad to finally get inside.

He suffered a chilly half an hour still wearing his coat whilst the fire got going but it was soon burning merrily and warming the small space and he was able to shed his coat and suit and just wear his pyjamas and dressing gown as he worked. He had written the names of all the relevant islanders onto post it notes and he was starting to position them on the wall to the side of the bed. The names all circled the photo of the victim, grouped by location and relationships. Then he lay upside down on the bed with his head against the foot rest and his hands steepled under his chin as he looked at the patterns they formed.

He was concerned that this case was beginning to look like the work of a serial killer. He was yet to receive any inquest details regarding Stephen, Robert Conan-Sander's father, and if his suspicion was correct it would prove possible that his heart attack had been induced through non-natural means which would mean two deaths. Anyone who had killed twice would have little or no compunction to kill again should the need arise and he needed to ensure there was no one else in the firing line.

His mind however was not just focused on the case and instead kept coming back to Molly and how she was making him feel. It was becoming harder and harder to deny his feelings for her but he knew that he wasn't a good man. He would never be good enough for someone as pure as Molly, she deserved so much more.

It was late when he fell into a restless sleep with the storm playing itself out overhead. His mind mixed together death and rain and Molly and he found himself having sex with her in a graveyard in the rain, their bodies wet and muddy, slipping and sliding against each other. Her wet hair hung in tendrils around her face sticking to his hands and arms as their tongues danced together. He could feel her nipples hard and cold against his chest and the warmth of her core against his groin making his cock twitch and pulse. He needed to be in her, to be part of her….

He was torn from the dream by knocking on his front door and he groaned as he rolled over. He sat up and washed a hand over his face having to remind himself where he was. He glanced at his phone to see it was just before ten o'clock which meant it was Molly at the door and he was still reeling from his dream and conscious that he was showing the physical signs of it.

She knocked on the door once more.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly was beginning to wonder whether Sherlock was even in when the door was finally unlocked and opened. He looked groggy from sleep as if he had just woken up and Molly had to take a deep breath and make an effort not to bite her lip as she saw just how sexy he was first thing. For starters he was wearing his pyjamas and a robe which he was holding closed around himself. His hair was dishevelled and he was sporting stubble which made her want to slide her hand down his face to his jaw before kissing him senseless.

'You'd better come in I suppose. I'm sure you can work out that I overslept. Why don't you make us both coffee whilst I have a quick shower?'

Molly came in and unwrapped her scarf from her neck. The room was still warm from the fire that Sherlock must have lit the night before. He padded his way to the bathroom and it was only when he closed the door that she felt as though she could breathe again. She hated that she was always so physically drawn to him…it just wasn't fair. And now, God help her, she could hear the shower going and knew he must be naked in there. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the images that her mind conjured up.

Five minutes later and she was just carrying the coffees over to the small settee by the fireplace when Sherlock came out wrapped in nothing but a towel and rough drying his hair with another. She faltered just enough to spill a little of the coffee before collecting herself and getting them to the coffee table. It didn't end there though because as she turned to ask him what his plan for the day was he threw that towel on the bed and then unhooked the towel from his waist and started to dry himself.

He had his back to Molly and rather than speak she stood there with her mouth open in shock and her eyes glued to his naked body. She knew she shouldn't be looking, in fact her mind was screaming at her to turn away but her body just wasn't responding. Instead her eyes were raking up and down the full, glorious, naked length of him; from his long, slim but muscular legs to his tight backside and then up his back to those broad shoulders.

He glanced over his shoulder as he threw the second towel down. 'Sorry, did you say something?'

She knew she was blushing and his voice seemed to release her from her trance and she turned back to the fireplace, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. 'I…err…yes. I was just wondering what you wanted to do today.'

'I need access to the Conan-Sander's private living quarters. Do you know where they are in the Manor House?'

'Yes, at least, I think I do. They always used to live in the west wing and I don't think that has changed.'

'Good, now what did you bring me for breakfast?'

Molly jumped and turned to find Sherlock stood right behind her. He was closer than she would have expected and she had to bend her neck to look up at him. Her eyes caught with his and she felt as though there was no air left in the room. His eyes were boring into her very soul, his pupils dilated so much that they looked almost black. Her mouth had run dry and she saw his gaze flick down to her lips as she let her tongue brush over them.

She forced herself to step back and look away. 'I…umm…I just picked up some pastries and croissants from the shop.'

As he walked over to where she had left then in the kitchenette she tried to get a grip on herself. This was ridiculous, she had spent countless hours with Sherlock before, even in close proximity, so why were her reactions so extreme today?

Sherlock was feeling similarly disconcerted but with a little more understanding of why. He still had the images from his dream in his head and even though he'd subjected himself to a cold shower he was still feeling very horny and having Molly in his room with him was far too tempting. He'd been playing with fire dressing in front of her, almost wanting her to feel as disconcerted as he was and then when he'd gone to join her by the fireplace he'd even thought about kissing her. He could just imagine his brother scoffing in disgust at him being so emotional and he had to remind himself that he was on the island for a case, not for a romantic interlude.

He quickly drank his coffee and grabbed his coat and scarf and then he ate the pastry as they made their way through the grounds to the main house.

The storm had done some damage to some of the trees and shrubs around the estate and he saw a workman in the distance raking up twigs and leaves. Molly raised her hand in greeting and then let Sherlock know that he was Ricky the odd job man. He nodded his head in acknowledgement and made a mental note to catch up with him at some point to get some background on the two victims.

They made their way into the Manor House unchallenged but as Molly pointed out not many people locked their doors on the island, especially during the quiet season.

'We should be able to access their quarters down here.'

He followed her through some corridors as he took in his surroundings. The Manor House had obviously been very grand once upon a time but even though everything was very clean and well maintained it was shabby and had obviously lacked any recent investment; a sign of the fading fortunes of the owners and the need to let it out.

As they passed a couple of the rooms he could see that previously opulent dining room and morning rooms had now been converted into exercise spaces and therapy rooms.

Finally, they reached a door dividing the main house from a separate suite of rooms and when Molly tried it she found it locked. She stood to one side to let Sherlock past and he knelt down to examine the lock, glad that it was fairly modern and therefore easier for him to pick.

Once they entered the apartment they split up with Sherlock giving Molly instructions as to what kinds of things they should be looking for…photos, correspondence, legal documents. It took them a couple of hours in total and it was only when they were going through their haul that they ran into trouble.

 **Don't fear, the Sherlolly is building and I don't think either of them will be able to rein it in for much longer. Do we trust Barry to play matchmaker? I'm glad you've been enjoying the rapid postings and your reviews are all just spurring me on so keep them coming xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**I am so sorry to those who have reviewed and not had a response. I do try to reply where I can but with upping the regularity of the posting and trying to get Christmas squared away and work in a decent state I am dropping the ball a bit. Hope you can forgive me and still keep reviewing. I do read and love every comment xx**

 **Chapter 7**

They were just gathering up the papers that Sherlock wanted to take with them when the door into the apartments opened.

'Who's in here? Show yourself.'

It was the quavering voice of a late middle aged man and Sherlock immediately deduced it to be Dr Piper, the island's defacto doctor and owner of the Piper Meditation Centre. He sighed, suspecting that this wasn't going to go well.

He let Molly lead the way knowing it would probably be best to let her speak.

'Hello Dr Piper. I don't know if you remember me from the other day, Dr Molly Hooper.'

As they emerged into the hallway Sherlock took in the man who looked younger than he sounded. He must have been early fifties but sounded in his sixties. He wasn't a particularly good looking man but he was expensively dressed though the clothes were a few years old…from a monied background but living beyond his means; he couldn't be earning that much here. Thwarted ambitiously, not bright enough to be a good doctor but astute enough to make money running a quack sanctuary. Possible dodgy background otherwise why would he have hidden himself in this backwater. He'd have to look into Dr Piper and his qualifications further.

'Yes, I remember you but what are you doing here? And who's this?'

Sherlock held his hand out. 'The names Holmes, Sherlock Holmes.'

'The Detective! Evelyn didn't say it would be you who was staying here, just said it was a friend. Why in God's name are you here?' He turned to Molly angrily. 'Is this because of your ridiculous notion that Mr Conan-Sanders didn't commit suicide?'

He tilted his head still looking at Molly and Sherlock felt his hackles rise.

'Given that Dr Hooper's qualifications far exceed your own I suggest maybe you defer to her when giving an opinion on cause of death.'

'I don't bloody well see why I should…and I certainly don't see why you felt you had any right to break into these apartments. I should call the police.'

'Go ahead. Send them to my lodge at their leisure….oh hang on, that's right, there's no ferry until next week. Shame.'

Dr Piper looked as though he wanted to hit something, preferably Sherlock but he obviously realised that that was a fight he wouldn't win.

'Well, I can't possibly let you take anything. Put those papers back, they might be important.'

'Yes, they are; which is why I'm taking them as evidence. Are you worried because you have something to hide?'

'I…me…don't be ridiculous.'

'Good, well we'll bid you goodbye then.'

Sherlock swept passed him and down the corridor listening as Molly uttered an apology before following him out.

As they exited the main house they glanced at each other and started chuckling. Molly shook her head. 'I suspect he might want to charge you for the lodge now.'

Sherlock nodded. 'I think you might be right. It's no matter, worth every penny. The man's an idiot and I don't think he's involved at all but he does have something in his past. I need to ring Greg and get him to check.

He was thwarted from making a call though; when they got back to his lodge and he checked his phone there was no signal.

Molly shrugged. 'It's very hit and miss on the island and bad weather often knocks out the mobile reception.'

He checked his laptop and found the same problem and he huffed in frustration longing for easy broadband and wifi.

He sat on the bed and went through the photos and papers again whilst Molly cleared out the grate and set another fire going and soon the lodge felt warm and cosy compared to the outside world. The weather was starting to turn again and the wind was whistling round the buildings ominously.

Molly eventually came and sat opposite him and, as she ate one of the croissants that she'd brought with her earlier, she picked up some of the photos and sighed. 'God we all look so young.'

He leant forward to see what she was looking at and he could smell her perfume, enticing him in further. Their shoulders were almost touching as she pointed to the photo which showed a group of kids all dressed in the fashions of the early nineties. He spotted Molly straight away, second from right…she hadn't changed that much; her smile was as warm and open as today, her eyes bright and intelligent. The victim had his arm around her shoulder and on her other side was Kirsty from the bar and two other guys.

Molly pointed to the others. 'That's Ricky the odd job man. Him and Kirsty dated as well that summer but it fizzled out and the one on the end is some lad who was here visiting his uncle…I can't remember his name but he was alright, hung around with us a bit.'

Sherlock felt an unreasonable sense of disgruntlement at seeing another man with Molly. He'd felt it when she'd appeared with "Jim from IT" and again with Tom. It wasn't jealousy, at least he didn't think so, more of a feeling of them being wrong for her. Not that it mattered in this case, the relationship and the man were both dead.

He turned to look at Molly seeing the softness in her eyes as she relived old memories and he found himself once again wanting to kiss her. He sat back up frowning and the suddenness of his action startled her. She glanced at her watch and started to stand.

'Oh look at the time, I hadn't realised it was that late. I told Aunty that I'd join her for afternoon tea before going onto Pete and Barry's. Um…do you want to meet me there or…'

Sherlock stood with her, walking her to the door. 'I'll call for you just before seven. Until later then Molly Hooper.'

The side of her mouth crooked up into a smile at him using her full name. It was almost like an in joke between them.

'OK! I'll see you later.'

As she continued to smile at him he couldn't resist leaning down and pressing a kiss to her cheek returning her smile when it brought a blush to her face.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly hugged herself as she walked back down to her aunt's house struggling to wipe the smile from her face. She knew she was probably imagining it but it felt as though her and Sherlock were getting closer sharing this time together; a strengthening of their friendship. The trouble was it made her want more and she couldn't help feeling a frisson of excitement about their planned evening together. It almost felt date like and she started to worry about her outfit…which was ridiculous as all anyone wore on this island was jeans and jumpers. Well, everyone except Sherlock who was still wearing designer suits.

Her aunt quizzed her about the case over their cups of tea and loved listening to how they had been busted by Dr Piper.

'Oh I wish I'd been there myself. All this excitement, we've never had anything like it on the island. Makes me long for my youth again.'

She had a sad look in her eyes which had Molly vowing to not leave it so long between her visits. Maybe she could even persuade her aunt to visit her in London in the spring.

True to his word Sherlock knocked on the door at seven and let himself in following Evie's shout about the door being open.

Molly pulled on her coat but didn't bother with her gloves and scarf given the fact she was only going three doors down. She kissed her aunt on the cheek and picked up the bottle of wine that she'd bought to take around and then the two of them left.

'So, is there anything you want to get from tonight?' She asked as they made the short, cold walk to Pete and Barry's house.

'Just an idea of where everyone was the night before, opportunity and possible motives….but more than that it will just be nice to be warm. This place is freezing when you step out of doors and maybe I should have borrowed some of John's hideous jumpers.'

He looked sideways at Molly and they both laughed and were still giggling as Barry opened the door.

'God, come in. It must be minus ten out there. Let me take your coats and you can go and get warm by the fire.'

Molly wasn't too bad as she hadn't been out for long but Sherlock went and held his hands out to warm up near the flames but not before placing one on Molly's cheek and hearing her squeak of shock at how cold they were.

'Red or white guys? We've got both.'

Both Molly and Sherlock requested red and after a moment of getting warm they followed him through into the kitchen diner. Their home was similar in layout to Evie's house although they had a small extension on the back which gave them a bit more space for a proper dining table. Their decor was also a lot more modern and less cottage-y but it still suited the style of the house.

As Molly turned into the dining area thanking Barry for the glass of wine that he'd passed to her she was surprised to see a woman already sitting at the table. She was very attractive and she estimated that she was slightly younger than herself; dark hair and pale skin elaborately made up and sexily dressed. Molly suddenly wished that she'd made more of an effort, she felt dowdy in comparison. She smiled nervously in greeting.

'Hi, I'm Molly, Evelyn Hooper's niece.'

'Oh I know Evie she's lovely. I'm Charlie, Dr Piper's bad younger step-sister, banished to the island because of unnamed misdemeanours. Ooh and who do we have here?'

Her eyes had already slid past Molly and onto Sherlock and Molly's heart fell just that little bit more as she watched her sitting up a little straighter and pushing her chest out provocatively.'

Sherlock introduced himself and shook her hand when she proffered her own.

'So, tell me are you two an item?'

Sherlock just looked confused. 'A what?'

'Together, a couple?'

'Ah…no, we're not. Just good friends.'

'Well thank goodness for that. It's not often that we have fresh meat around here and certainly not as good looking as you are.'

Sherlock frowned a little but at that moment Pete came downstairs and joined them and there was a flurry of greetings before Barry ushered them all to their seats and started dishing up the food. It wasn't anything fancy, just a venison stew and homemade bread, but they all agreed it was delicious.

The conversation was all around how they had ended up on the island and what they thought of it. Barry and Pete and come there following Barry's brush with cancer.

'We lived a mad life in Manchester but after my diagnosis and treatment we just wanted a quieter life and this place seemed perfect. I'd already given up my job to concentrate on getting well and Pete's job was home-based with odd meetings here and there so flexible. Anyway, we love it here. I do some baking for the shop three times a week doing the morning pastries and fresh breads plus I've catered for the pub events on a Saturday. We've even considered opening up a small cafe or restaurant in the future.'

Charlie decided not to tell her story but instead insisted that Sherlock try to guess it, flirting with him about being a famous detective and challenging him to get it right. Molly cringed knowing she'd probably get a bit more than she bargained for.

'Let me see, younger child of a divorcing couple, no doubt the offspring of some affair of your mother's. Spoilt, indulged, rebellious. You turned to drugs and, from the state if your septum, cocaine was your drug of choice and I'm thinking that you probably moved to the island in a last ditch attempt to get clean, which isn't working too well. Oh and you're carrying on an affair with the grounds man, Ricky. Is that enough to be going on with?'

There was silence around the table for a moment as all eyes turned to Charlie to see how she would take it but she just roared with laughter. 'Oh you are perfect, can I keep you? Let's just say the affair with Ricky is a convenience but I'll happily give him up for you any day of the week.'

She was sat on the other side of Sherlock from Molly and Molly felt jealousy, like a clenched fist in her stomach, when she saw Charlie putting her hand on Sherlock's upper thigh and squeezing it.

 **A bit of competition thrown in to the mix...do we think Sherlock will be tempted? Do I even need to ask?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Alright so quite rightly not many of you see Charlie as a long term threat, I do love t9 out the cat amongst the pigeons though.**

 **Right whilst I remember you won't be getting another chapter this weekend as I'm away visiting friends and in laws so the next chapter will be Tuesday at the earliest...and our chances of posting the Christmas Day chapters on Christmas Day or before are quickly running out. I'll do my best though xx**

 **Chapter 8**

Sherlock put his hand over Charlie's where it lay on his leg and then he moved it away. His voice was slightly lower but Molly heard him saying 'don't touch what you can't handle'.

Charlie laughed and batted her eyelashes at him, not put off in the slightest. 'Oh, I can handle you, I'm sure of it…just give me a try.'

The food had suddenly become tasteless to Molly and she found herself pushing the pieces of meat around her plate. She could never match someone like Charlie; she had all the looks, the sexy body, the flirting and most of all the confidence. Everything Molly felt she lacked. She reminded her a little of Irene Adler…yes, she'd looked her up after she realised her and Sherlock had had some kind of relationship; and her websites had both horrified and fascinated her. Horrified because this was someone she couldn't hope to compete with and fascinated because she just seemed so sexually confident. Did Sherlock want a dominatrix in his bed? She'd never got to the bottom of that conundrum and it wasn't like there was anyone she could ask.

The conversation naturally moved on to the reason why Sherlock was on the island and he jokingly asked where they all were the night before….'just in case I need to add you on to my list of suspects.'

Barry answered for both himself and Pete. 'I had a headache and went to bed early. Pete had some business calls he had to make to Japan and then he stayed up working for a bit longer. It must have been midnight when you came to bed?'

Pete nodded. 'Yeah that sounds about right. I suppose either one of us could have snuck out but I can't see why we'd have wanted to.'

Sherlock turned to Charlie. 'And you? Don't tell me, you were conveniently shagging your lover.'

She raised an eyebrow and smirked. 'That would have been convenient wouldn't it…but no. I taught a yoga class 7.00 til 8.00 then I had supper with my brother before going to my room. Neither of us has an alibi after about 9.30 but if either of us had wanted to meet up with Robbie why wouldn't we just go to his rooms rather than trogging out to the lighthouse in shit weather.'

'So, you definitely think Robbie was killed?'

It was Barry who spoke as he stood and topped up everyone's glasses before starting to clear the plates away. Molly stood and helped him receiving a thank you for her efforts.

'I think it's more than likely and there are plenty of people who'd possibly want him dead. Take you two for example.' He tilted his glass at Pete and then Barry. 'He could have been having an affair with either one of you and the other killed out of jealousy. As for you, Charlie, he was threatening your brother's business with his future plans, or he could have got you pregnant before you came to the island and made you have an abortion and you plotted revenge…or maybe his dad was your dad and you want to inherit yourself.'

Once again there was silence in the room for a minute before Barry started to laugh but Molly had the feeling that not all of those scenarios were made up and she wondered which was the true one and whether Sherlock had got the response he wanted.

Dessert was a more muted affair with conversation turning to politics and current news events both of which Sherlock was silent about and Molly wondered if it was out of lack of interest of lack of knowledge. She knew from John that he had bizarre gaps in his knowledge.

Eventually Pete decided it was time to move into the more comfortable front room and so they all picked up their wine glasses and a couple of new bottles and they made their way through. Molly was enjoying that slightly relaxed feeling that came from having a couple of glasses of wine. The evening seemed more interesting, the people brighter and she was happy to accept another glass. She followed Charlie into the room to see that Sherlock had managed to get the ultra-modern large, circular armchair and Barry was sat on the poof with Pete next to him on the settee. He laughed at the girls. 'So one of you gets the settee with Pete here but the other gets to snuggle up with Sherlock on the arm chair. It's just big enough for two if you sit sideways with your legs across his. Who wants what?'

Charlie immediately turned to Sherlock. 'Well, I don't mind if you don't.'

Sherlock's face was a mask of disinterest. 'Well, I do. Molly…' he raised one eye brow and patted his lap and she almost choked.

'You want me to sit on your knee.'

Charlie was already making her disgruntled way over to Pete and probably didn't hear his response as he whispered 'I'd far rather it was you than her!'

He moved up a little so Molly could squeeze her bum into the gap at the side of him and she settled her legs over his. She had to admit it was more comfortable than it looked but her breath caught in her throat when Sherlock rested his hand on her leg just above her knee. She was acutely conscious of it; it almost felt hot to the touch, like he was branding her. She took another swig of her wine, wishing her body wouldn't react so much to Sherlock's proximity but she couldn't help it. Just sitting here with him was turning her on.

Barry put on some Christmas music and the conversation flowed along with the wine. Molly wasn't sure if Sherlock had realised it or not but his hand was now absent-mindedly moving in circles on her leg sending signals to all the wrong places in her body.

It was Charlie who suggested that they play truth or dare but given how much they'd all drunk they all enthusiastically agreed although Molly suspected that Sherlock wasn't as enamoured with the idea as he made out.

Pete went first and asked Charlie if she wanted truth or dare. She went with dare and ended up drinking a whiskey down in one. She turned to Sherlock. 'Truth or dare?'

He shrugged. 'Truth.'

'Who did you last have sex with and when?'

Molly couldn't help but go a little rigid and she saw Sherlock's eye narrow and flick to her face and away again.

He chuckled. 'A woman called Irene in Karachi about three years ago.'

Pete nearly spat his drink out. 'Three years…Jesus, are you a monk or something?'

'No, it's just there aren't a lot of people that I want to have sex with. It's boring with the wrong person.'

Pete chuckled and winked. 'Maybe you should try men, they might not be as boring.'

Charlie shouted an 'oy' and elbowed him in the ribs.

Sherlock just smirked. 'I have and believe me they are.'

Charlie raised an eyebrow at him. 'Maybe you just need to try more women. Anyway, your turn.'

'Fine,' Sherlock turned to Pete. 'Have you ever had an affair?'

'I think I might pick dare…oh all right. Yes, but not with Barry. Well actually it was with Barry but it was when I was married to my ex-wife.'

The game moved on with Barry opting for a dare and Molly answering a question about her first time with Robbie about whether it was any good…her answer being 'average…maybe a bit less than.'

When it came back round to Sherlock Barry asked him how he'd faked his death and Sherlock opted instead for a dare. He made swift work of the whiskey but the second time around the dare wasn't half as easy.

They'd all taken at least one dare by now and the game was starting to fall apart a little but after Barry whispered something in his ear Pete turned to Sherlock. 'Truth or dare.'

'Seeing as I don't want to talk about my faked death I'll go dare again, though it might have to be my last drink.'

Pete shook his head. 'Oh no, no drink this time. That's too easy. I want to you to kiss someone in the room.'

Sherlock looked puzzled. 'That's ridiculous, why would I do that?'

Barry laughed. 'Umm because it's a dare. And no peck, this has to be a full on snog.' Pete let out a snort of laughter and Charlie put her hand up and sang 'pick me, pick me.'

Molly was finding the whole thing quite amusing right up until the moment that Sherlock put his drink down at the side of their chair and turned to her.

'Do you mind Molly?'

She knew her mouth had fallen open as she looked at him in shock. 'Me? You want to kiss me?'

He smirked and she felt her stomach drop away at what he was proposing. 'Yes, you…who else would I pick?'

She wanted to say she'd have expected him to pick anyone else... but her body took over and she just nodded her head. There was a cheer in the background from the guys and a groan from Charlie but as Sherlock placed his hands either side of her face the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

Her eyes closed as he leant towards her and the next thing she felt was his lips pressing against hers before he slowly coaxed her mouth open and then they were kissing, truly, properly kissing and it felt, to Molly, as though she had never been kissed before. His mouth was hard against her own and his hand moved to the back of her skull as he tilted her head further deepening the kiss until she felt dizzy with it. She knew the guys in the room were saying something but she couldn't seem to concentrate on it; instead every fibre of her being was responding to Sherlock and how he was making her feel.

She let out a moan of desire and it was at that moment that he released her and for a few seconds they were a couple of inches apart and just staring at each other, eyes dilated and both breathing heavily. Then Sherlock licked his lips, sat back in the chair and smiled. 'Good enough?'

'Jeez, I'll say.' Answered Barry. 'I haven't seen anything that hot since that night in Blazes nightclub last year.' He turned to Pete who raised his glass in acknowledgement. 'You two should get together you'd be electric.'

Charlie couldn't help but add. 'Not as electric as he'd be with me. We could light up the island.'

It was the clock above the fireplace striking midnight that broke up the party and Molly, Sherlock and Charlie thanked their hosts as they put on their coats and gloves etc.

Molly couldn't help but feel a flicker of jealousy as she realised that Sherlock would be walking back to the Manor House with Charlie but it made sense and it wasn't as though they could walk alone.

Her aunt had already gone to bed when she let herself in and so she quietly set about getting herself ready for bed but when she got there she just couldn't sleep. She kept playing that kiss over and over in her mind.

In the end she got up to make herself a hot chocolate hoping it would still her mind. As she waited for the milk to heat up she looked out of the small window up towards where she knew Sherlock's lodge was situated and she wondered if he had even given that shared moment a second thought. She suspected not. She turned the milk off and was about to pour it out when a flash from outside caught her eye followed a second later by the sound of an explosion.

Her heart caught in her throat as she looked out to see an enormous plume of fire and smoke coming from the place she'd been looking at only moments before…Sherlock's lodge.

 **Dun, dun, dunnnn...a cliff hanger for you and you'll be dangling for a few days. I hope you liked the kiss and the subtle questioning from Sherlock. Let me know xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you for enduring the delay even when I ended you on such a cruel cliffhanger. I won't delay you any longer...enjoy!**

 **Chapter 9**

Molly wished she could say she had never felt so scared but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't. She'd felt this scared when Sherlock jumped from Barts roof, even though she knew the plan. And she'd felt this scared when he'd been shot and she'd had that phone call from John to say he might not make it.

Even as the fear threatened to consume her she was moving, running through the front room, jamming her feet into her boots and grabbing for her coat.

The cold hit her like a physical force as she left the house but she pushed through it pulling her coat around her shoulders as she ran for the path up to the Manor House. She could see the glow of fire and hear distant shouts of those closer arriving and calling to each other and in her mind was that old familiar mantra running through her head on a loop 'please be OK, please be OK, please be OK.'

Her lungs were burning and her heart was pounding as she finally reached the gates and pushed through them, grateful that nowadays they were always left unlocked. She could see a huddle of people near the burning lodge and she let out a chocked sob at the confirmation that it was Sherlock's. A couple of them were starting to react pulling a hose pipe across the grass and directing the feeble spray at the burning building but Molly didn't care about the property she just cared about its occupant.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Ten minutes earlier Sherlock had found himself as distracted as Molly, even though he didn't know that she was suffering from sleeplessness just like him. His mind kept returning to the kiss that they had shared earlier and just what a revelation it had been. He had known that his feelings for Molly were transitioning from friendship to romantic but outside of his dreams he hadn't even considered sexual...but he was now. From the moment his lips had met with hers he had known that he wanted her. His body had responded to her very physically and had they not been in company he wasn't sure he would have had any incentive to stop them from going so much further.

He sat up with his feet on the cold floor, desperate for a cigarette; anything to calm his mind. In the end he pushed himself to standing and made his way over to where he'd thrown his coat over the seat just half an hour earlier. He contemplated smoking in the lodge but he hated sleeping in the smell of stale smoke so he sighed heavily as he pulled the coat on and shoved his feet in his shoes. Maybe the bracing cold of the air would help him think more clearly; to rid him of the images of a naked Molly that his mind seemed intent in conjuring up.

He shivered as he opened the door and pulled his scarf from his coat pocket tying it around his neck as he wandered out onto the grass. He paused to light his cigarette but before he could even take a drag his world exploded around him. The last thing he remembered as he was lifted from his feet, feeling the heat from the blast against his back and on his scalp, was thinking of Molly. Her face swam before his eyes telling him how to fall, how to land, how to give himself the best chance…and then everything was black.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly's legs felt weak and shaky as she ran across the grass towards what she could now see was three people; one sat down and two crouched. Then she was there with them and relief washed over her as she saw that the figure on the floor was Sherlock. He had his coat on and blankets wrapped around his shoulder and Dr Piper was flashing a small pen light in his eyes and murmuring something to him.

She fell to her knees in front of them ignoring the icy cold seeping through the knees of her fleecy pyjamas.

'Sherlock, are you alright? How is he?'

Dr Piper started to stand. 'A few surface wounds from what I assume was flying debris and concussion from a blow to his head probably as he landed but other than that he's fine. We need to get him inside though before he gets hypothermia…he was lying on the grass unconscious when we got here.'

Molly couldn't help it, as Sherlock turned his dazed gaze upon her she leant forward and wrapped him up in a tight hug. 'Oh thank God. I thought I'd lost you.'

She started to feel a little embarrassed about her outburst of affection and was about to let him go when she felt his arms come up around her back and then he was holding her as tight as she was holding him. 'Never Molly, you'll never lose me….I promise'.

The fervent emotion in his voice made her want to cry after all the stress of the last ten minutes but she knew he was concussed and she needed to stay strong for him.

'Come on, let's get you indoors. Maybe Dr Piper can offer you a room in the main house.'

He had stood with her, leaning heavily on her for support but as she started to try to lead him to the main house he pulled back.

'No…no…it's not safe.'

She frowned in confusion and looked up at him. 'What? What do you mean?'

The realisation of what he was implying hit her and she looked back at the lodge. The flames were starting to die down now and at least it hadn't spread to the neighbouring lodge…the thick stone walls doing their job…but she'd not considered that it might have been deliberate. Not that she'd given it much thought either way; she had just been so focused on getting to Sherlock.

'Oh…oh god, you think it was done on purpose.'

He bit his lip and winced at some injury but nodded his head.

'Come back to mine then. We don't have much room but it's safer.'

He nodded his head again and after informing Dr Piper they started to slowly make their way back down towards the small port and the little row of houses that Molly was currently calling home. Sherlock had already informed Dr Piper not to touch anything in the lodge, and that he'd be back the following day to carry out further investigation but Molly was glad that he had realised that he was in no fit state to do it tonight.

She was exhausted by the time she got him back to her aunt's house. He'd leant on her for most of the way down and her small frame had struggled to cope but she had refused to fail him. When they entered the house he fell onto the small settee and let his head fall back onto the cushions and Molly went to make them both a warm drink; throwing away the milk from earlier and starting again. She also found her aunt's first aid kit and got a bowl of warm water so that she could check Sherlock for any other injuries. It wasn't so much that she didn't trust Dr Piper but she just needed to be sure for her own peace of mind.

He shrugged himself out of his coat and just watched through heavily lidded, tired eyes as Molly wiped the gash on his forehead, leaning his head forward so she could check his skull for any other bumps or injuries. He groaned as she ran her hands through his hair and she apologised for possibly hurting him, asking him where the injury was but he just ignored her.

She took a deep breath once she'd finished treating his head would and then asked him to remove his t shirt so she could check his back and she could tell by the way he winced that he had some damage there. Again he leant forward and she could see three bruises forming where he'd been hit by items from the explosion but there were no broken bones or lacerations and so she just gently rubbed some arnica cream on to reduce the bruising.

She went and finished the hot cocoa drinks and brought Sherlock a couple of pain killers. She suspected he'd have a headache by now and they'd help with the pain from the bruising as well. He took them without complaint and they sat together sipping their drinks, both with blankets wrapped around them to help warm them back up although the residual heat from the fire helped with that as well.

It was Molly who spoke first. 'So you honestly think the fire was caused on purpose?'

Sherlock nodded and then grimaced in pain. 'Yes, it's too much of a coincidence. Someone doesn't like the fact that I'm here investigating the murder.'

'But how could they have rigged something like that?'

He shrugged. 'It would have been easy enough. There was a full calor gas bottle for the cooker. They could have rigged up a small timer. Google can tell you almost anything nowadays and YouTube will walk you through it step by step. I was just lucky…you saved me Molly. You always save me.' He yawned and put down his empty cup.

Molly smiled but felt a little confused. She hadn't done that much, not really.

'Come on, let's get you to bed.'

His eyes were closed by now but he still smirked. 'Trying to get me into bed Molly, we haven't even had a date yet.'

She rolled her eyes at his lame attempt at humour but still took hold of his arm to help him up. 'Very funny. Come on, you're shattered and you need sleep.'

He let her help him up the stairs and she waited whilst he went to the bathroom before she led him into her room. She saw him glancing around at her possessions, at her childhood pictures still on the wall and her old teddy bear at the side of the bed. She wondered just what he was deducing but she didn't like to ask. His deductions could be biting at the best of times, let alone when he was slightly concussed.

He fell onto the bed with a groan of relief and Molly thought she had never seen a more beautiful sight than Sherlock laid out on her bed…albeit for medical reasons. It was an image that she knew she wouldn't forget in a hurry.

She tucked him in and resisted the urge to kiss him on his forehead but as she made to leave her caught her hand. 'Where are you going?'

'Oh…umm, I'm just going to sleep downstairs on the settee.'

'But I'm concussed, doesn't that mean I need to be supervised?'

'Yes, but I can come and check on you every so often in the night.'

'Don't be ridiculous. That settee is far too small even for you. You might as well sleep here with me…you can keep tabs on me better like that…more efficient.' He yawned again and rolled onto his side and Molly found sleep weighing down on her, breaking down her defenses. His arguments all seemed perfectly sound and the idea of sleeping on the settee so unattractive in comparison to her own bed and so she found herself turning out the bedside light and climbing in at the side of him.

She heard his breathing even out almost immediately and for a moment she lay there in the dark, hearing the sea crashing against the rocks in the distance and she wished that she could reach out her arm and hold him close but she knew she couldn't, she shouldn't. So instead she rolled over and closed her eyes, finally succumbing to sleep.

 **Come on…you knew I had to get them sleeping together somehow. I hope you like the aftermatch of the explosion. What do you want from the morning after? (Not that I'm promising anything ;))**


	10. Chapter 10

**Metricjenn reckons that Sherlock will be wrapped around Molly like lights on a tree and I have to say that that was my favourite analogy. And of course he is.**

 **Anyway as an apology for the delay over the weekend you get two chapters back to back xx**

 **Chapter 10**

It was still dark when Molly awoke but it didn't surprise her. At this time of year the sun was slow to rise and quick to set. What did surprise her however was waking up with her back pressed against the front of another person; their arm around her waist pulling her against them. Almost at the same moment that she felt confusion remembrance of the night before flooded back and she gasped in shock as she realised it was Sherlock holding her; his hand tucked under her ribs, almost brushing against her breasts. Not only that but she could feel something that was suspiciously hard against her bum.

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together and felt suddenly grateful for the darkness of the room, that way no one could see just how much she must be blushing. It felt almost enlightening to realise that Sherlock was just a man with human male responses; responses which included a morning erection. She had no doubt in her mind that it was nothing to do with her per se and everything to do with the general situation and an involuntary physical reaction to it.

The question now was what should she do? This wasn't an easy situation to get out of without potentially disturbing and waking him.

She took a breath and then slowly let her hand slide over his feeling how warm he felt. His skin was smooth and warm and she could feel the knuckles of his hand under her fingers. She felt her own lust unfurling in her stomach at touching him so intimately and she tried to will it away but it was no good, her body was betraying her, trying to persuade her to roll over and push him onto his back before straddling his slim body and impaling herself on the erection that she could feel pressed up against her.

Once she had her hand over his she tried to lift it enough that she could slide out from under it but instead he groaned and pulled her tighter against him. Dear God she even felt his cock pulse against her backside and she felt a flood of wetness through her core. He was killing her.

She tried again but this time she was a bit firmer in her actions rolling onto her back as she lifted his hand. She knew the moment he awoke because his hand instinctively caught at her own and she heard his intake of breath as he tried to work out what was happening.

She found herself whispering into the dark to reassure him. 'Hey Sherlock…morning. I..umm..was just going to get up.

He immediately released her and she could feel him pulling away and sitting up as she reached over to flick on the bedside lamp; relieved that it was an old energy saver bulb so the light took some time before brightening. She glanced over at Sherlock to see him looking sexier and more disheveled than she'd ever seen him before... he simply looked gorgeous. He yawned and then smiled a little as he caught her gaze.

'How are you feeling? How's your head?'

He gingerly reached up to where he'd banged it the night before and closed his eyes briefly as he touched it. He swallowed before talking as if to get some moisture back in his mouth and she berated herself for not making him drink some more water the night before, being dehydrated wasn't going to help him recover. 'It's not too bad, maybe you could get me a couple more painkillers though.'

'Yes, of course. You wait here and I'll get you some water as well.'

She sat up and picked up her dressing gown before leaving the room. She freshened up in the bathroom first and then made her way downstairs. As she did she could hear her aunt moving about in the kitchen making some tea and crumpets as she always did for breakfast.

As she entered the room her aunt turned and gave her a wide smile and…did she just wink?

'Good morning Molly dear. I take it you had a good evening at Pete and Barry's house. They're such a lovely couple, a real asset to the island.'

'Umm...yes, no it was good. The food was delicious, I didn't realise Barry was such a good cook.'

'And I see you brought Sherlock back with you, I knew it wouldn't be long before you two got together. I'm so happy for you my dear.'

Molly suddenly understood the reason for her aunt winking at her. She thought her and Sherlock had….

'Oh God no…no it's not what you think.'

The older woman chuckled and shook her head. 'You don't need to lie on my behalf Molly, I know what you young things are like and it's not as though you don't know each other.'

'But seriously though Aunty it really isn't what it looks like. Someone tried to kill him last night, they blew up his lodge. I…' her voice caught in her throat unexpectedly as she tried to go on. The shock from the night before catching up with her. 'I don't know how he survived.'

Her aunt slowly put down the butter knife and turned to face her niece before coming over and wrapping her arms around her.

'Oh my dear. I had no idea; it must have been such a scare for you both. Now you sit down and I'll pour you some tea.'

'I said I'd take him some water and paracetamol.' Molly waved a hand in the direction of the stairs but even as she spoke she could hear the shower running upstairs which indicated that Sherlock was already up.

She sat down at the small kitchen table which doubled up as their dining table and she let her aunt fuss around her, adding sugar to her tea and buttering some crumpets.

A couple of minutes later and she could hear Sherlock making his way down the stairs but nothing would ever have prepared her for the sight she saw as he made his way into the kitchen. He was naked apart from one of her aunt's fuchsia pink towels slung around his waist.

'Morning Aunt Evie, I take it Molly has explained my presence here.'

The older woman took one look at him and smiled. 'She has though she didn't mention she brought you here with no clothes.'

He returned her smile as he made his way to the seat that she offered him. 'Not quite naked you'll be glad to hear but my pyjamas smell of smoke and the only other items I have are my coat and my shoes. I tried on the gown hung on the back of the door but the colour didn't suit me and it was four sizes too small.'

Evelyn was already putting tea and crumpets in front of him before finding some paracetamol on Molly's instructions.

'You're a cheeky one I see. Molly you'll have to pop round and see if Pete has anything that Sherlock can borrow. He's about the same size. I'd suggest Kirsty's husband as well but I wouldn't be indebted to that scoundrel if he was the last man on the island. Now come on, eat up your food.'

Molly caught Sherlock's eye and she tried to stay focused on his face and not his naked chest. She could already feel his knees touching her own and it was doing nothing to reduce her heart rate.

Once breakfast was finished she got changed and went round to Pete's house leaving Sherlock and her aunt chatting in the kitchen. They seemed deep in conversation and she wondered just what they had found to talk about. She'd have been very surprised and worried if she'd known that it was her.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

As soon as Molly had left the kitchen to go and get dressed Evelyn had sat down opposite him.

'You're in love with my niece…' she saw Sherlock making to interrupt her and she held her hand up '…now don't try and deny it. I've been on this earth for too many years and I recognise love when I see it. You cover it well but I see it…and it confuses me.'

Sherlock was curious to see where she was going with this and for some reason that he couldn't quite fathom he didn't feel up to denying it…maybe it was the concussion.

'What's so confusing?'

'Well, I know about that horrible phone call that you made because you had to so we both know that you know exactly how Molly feels about you. She says you've always known deep down. So if you love her and you know she loves you why have you never done anything about it?'

He sighed pushing his chair back from the table and brushing his hands through his hair as he searched for the right answer. He found he didn't want to lie to her, he'd lied to so many people for so long but just like Molly did on most things, bar his feelings, Evelyn seemed to see right through him and he suspected she'd be able to tell if he was lying.

'I'm not a good man…'

'That's not what I hear.'

He chuckled ruefully. 'I suspect your source may be a little biased.'

'You seem like a good man to me. I grant you I haven't known you long but I have an eye for these things.'

'I won't be good for her. I mean I've been on this island for less than 24 hours and already had an attempt on my life. Imagine how Molly will feel each and every time I go into danger, knowing I might never come back. How could I do that to her? She should find someone else, someone less risky…someone who'll appreciate her and love her better than I can.'

Evelyn stood and made her way back to the kettle refilling it and switching it on before she sat back down.

She took a deep breath and Sherlock knew that she was struggling with something…he narrowed his eyes and used all of his considerable brain power to figure it out.

A moment later he nodded his head, more to himself than her. Then he softly asked 'who was he and how did he die?'

Her head shot up and her eyes widened and for a split second he could see the resemblance with his Molly.

'He was Kenny Brady and he was 23 when he died. We both were. I'd known him since I was thirteen years old and been in love with him since I was fourteen. We started dating when I turned twenty and we'd just got engaged when he was killed outright in a motorbike accident. So you see Mr Holmes I know just how it feels to lose someone. I've always joked that we Hoopers when we mate we mate for life. There have never been any divorces…at least none instigated by us. When we fall in love it's complete and absolute.'

After a moments contemplation she carried on. 'So, what would have been worse for me than losing Kenny?' She paused for a second until Sherlock indicated for her to continue.

'Losing him and never having known what is was to be loved by him. For him to have died and for me never to have known that he loved me as well. His love has carried me the last fifty years and it will carry me to my grave until we're reunited once more.'

She carried on. 'You talk of Molly moving on and being with someone else but as you well know she tried that with Tom. He was a lovely man and he offered her everything you said, security, love, family but she gave it up and I'm assuming you know why.'

Sherlock shook his head. He'd had his suspicions but he had never liked to ask…maybe fear over the answer.

'She gave him up because she knew she'd never love him as much as she loves you.'

He felt his heart skip a beat at the confirmation; a warmth spreading through him making his nerves tingle.

'So if you never step up, if you never make a move Molly will remain as she is; single, alone, unloved. Don't get me wrong. She'd cope, she's carved out a good life for herself with good friends and a career that fulfils her but I think we both know that she deserves so much more than that…and whether you like it or not it's down to you.'

'But I don't even know where to start; relationships are really not my thing.'

She chuckled and shook her head. 'What on earth makes you think that the rest of us mere mortals know what we're doing? We all just muddle along.'

She stood back up as she heard the door unlatching but before she walked away she patted Sherlock's hand where it was resting on the table.

'One last thing….I'm deaf as a post when I take this hearing aid out. So don't you worry about me hearing anything tonight.' She winked at him and then made her way to the kettle leaving a slightly shocked but amused Consulting Detective in her wake.

 **Well I think we knew that Evie was going to give him a talking to at some point. Here's hoping it gives our detective the shove he needs. Do you think it will be enough?**


	11. Chapter 11

**It seems you are all big fans if Aunt Evie and I'm so glad, she was a joy to write. I should warn you though that Sherlock is going to be very stupid before he's sensible!**

 **Chapter 11**

When Sherlock went through to the front room Molly was placing a pile of clothes onto the settee.

'I've got enough for you to wear today, some jeans, a t shirt, a jumper and some underwear; you were in luck, Pete had just bought some new briefs so they haven't been worn. Barry has lent you some boots as well. Said something along the lines of dress shoes shouldn't be worn with jeans…fashion darling.'

She grinned at him and he couldn't help but smile back at her, that warm feeling from earlier making him feel light and a little giddy…maybe he should get her to check his concussion.

He pulled the t shirt on and was about to start on the rest of the clothes when he saw Molly's shocked expression and he rolled his eyes and huffed. 'I suppose I should go upstairs and get dressed.'

It was an amused voice behind him who answered. 'Ooh, don't stop on my account it's been a while since I saw a handsome young man naked.'

He turned to find Aunt Evie leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen laughing a little at her own joke.

He shook his head and picked up the clothes. 'Hooper women, you'll be the death of me!' But he made his way upstairs.

Molly giggled with her aunt and then sat down on the settee for a moment to try to collect her thoughts. All this time with Sherlock was playing with her head and her heart. She'd learnt to control her feelings for him over the years but right here, right now they seemed to be overwhelming her. She'd never felt so close to him and she'd never wanted him as much as she seemed to want him right now. It was almost painful. She knew she was going to get hurt...that she should give herself some separation from him to protect herself but she couldn't bring herself to enact it.

She took a deep breath as he came down the stairs, trying to gather herself, then she stood and gave him a bright smile feeling her heart swell as he returned it. He suited the jeans and jumper look; the soft wool of the jumper making her long to wrap her arms around him. How did he manage to look so damn good in everything?

She picked up her purple and pink scarf and started to wrap it around her neck before pulling on a matching woolly hat. 'Hey, are we good to go then? I should warn you it's starting to snow.'

'Why am I not surprised. That's just typical for the weather in this place. Come on. I should have investigated the explosion last night and not wasted the time but it is what it is.'

Molly chuckled at his exasperation and at him calling being treated for concussion a waste of time but she followed him out of the door and up the hill.

The snow was starting to come down heavily now and was already sticking to the path and grass as well as Sherlock's curls. Molly was walking behind him watching as each one landed wanting desperately to be able to run her hands through his hair. She made a mental note though to get him some kind of hat and she giggled to herself as she wondered whether she could find a deerstalker anywhere on the island.

'Go on, what are you laughing at? Me, no doubt.'

He glanced behind himself and Molly's smile got even wider. 'Maybe. Just wondering if I could find you a hat that's all.'

He rolled his eyes. 'Damn it not you as well! What is it about that bloody ear hat?'

Molly shrugged and moved alongside him as the path widened out. 'I don't know, you look cute in it. I mean, it suits you.' She added the last quickly as he started to look vexed. Then her eyes widened and she bit her lower lip as he put his hands in his hair and ruffled the snowflakes out. Damn he looked hot doing that.

Her good mood was crushed however when they saw the lodge for the first time. The basic structure was all still in place, the stone walls and slate roof but the window was blown out and the door was hanging off its hinges and there were black streaks up the walls and tendrils of smoke still hanging in the air.

No one else seemed to be around so they made their way up to the door and Sherlock pulled the torch, that he'd picked up the other day, out of his pocket.

He held his hand out to block Molly. 'Wait here, it might not be safe.'

'Well if it's not safe why are you going in?'

'Because that's what I do Molly, would you have me be otherwise?'

Molly suddenly felt like she was in a conversation or an argument that she hadn't known she was part of and she frowned as she watched him enter the building.

'I wouldn't change you for the world.' Her answer was almost a whisper and she wasn't even sure that he had heard it. He certainly didn't respond if he had.

She edged in a bit further as she heard him moving around. The furniture was blackened and it looked as though his suitcase and clothes were ruined. She saw him nudge his laptop with his foot but it was twisted and melted and no good to them now. He swore under his breath and then made his way to the heart of the explosion in the kitchen.

'Come here Molly. I need you to hold the torch whilst I take some pictures. It all seems fairly sound structurally so we should be OK.'

She tried to breathe through her mouth as she made her way in but the acrid stench seemed to seep into her bones and all she could think was that Sherlock could have been in here, trapped, dying. She tried to concentrate on what he was saying and doing but it was as though there was a roaring noise in her ears, her throat was burning with the effort not to cry.

When they finally made their way out she was physically shaking and she walked away trying to take in gulps of fresh air. Sherlock was saying something behind her about contacting Lestrade but she couldn't respond.

'Molly…Molly…'

She felt his hand touch her shoulder and it was like a damn breaking. She turned and flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around him as tight as she could, sobbing against his chest.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry…I just…I can't help thinking about how close I came to losing you.'

She half expected him to push her away, to tell her not to be ridiculous but instead he closed his own arms around her and hugged her to him.

'I'm fine, Molly, I'm fine. You've no need to worry. You won't ever lose me I promise. I…I need to tell you…'

Just then there was a shout of greeting from the other side of the lawns and the two of them seemed to spring apart as though they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't have.

Molly wiped at her eyes feeling more than a little embarrassed about her breakdown but she plastered on a smile and held up her hand in greeting at Dr Piper who was making his way across the snowy grass towards them.

'Morning, morning and how are you today Mr Holmes? None the worse for wear I hope after the little accident yesterday.'

Molly couldn't stop her mouth from hanging open in shock. 'Little accident…' but Sherlock put his hand on her arm and then stepped forward.

'Yes I'm fine. I suspect it was a faulty gas bottle, you should get the others checked to make sure there aren't more. It was just lucky for me that I was outdoors at the time.'

'Yes, by God it was. I dread to think what might have happened if you hadn't. Ah well, all's well that ends well. And yes, I've asked Ricky to check the other lodges. I've been onto our insurers as well and if you let me have a list of what you've lost they'll arrange some compensation. Now, do you want me to open up another lodge for you?'

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and let out an ironic snort of laughter. 'If you don't mind I won't take you up on that offer, I think I'll stay at the Hoopers. I was more than comfortable there last night. I would like to know the security details you have in place here though, just to be sure. Who has access to the lodges and the keys?'

Molly watched the encounter taking place and was highly suspicious of Sherlock's overly accommodating and jovial manner but it seemed to be working a treat on Dr Piper who was chatting away and giving him information that she suspected he would have been more reluctant to give if he'd thought Sherlock suspected the explosion of being deliberate.

'And where's your sister this morning? We met her at Pete and Barry's house last night and she was very good company.'

For once Dr Piper's good mood seemed to dim and he raised an eyebrow. 'Yes, my younger sister certainly is known for her...ahem...company. I expect she is still in bed; she's never been an early riser. I had hoped that moving here would slow her down a bit and it has….at least somewhat, but I don't know….siblings hey. We're stuck with them aren't with whether good or bad.'

Molly couldn't help but look at Sherlock to see his response. She'd heard all about the sister he hadn't known he had and what she had put him and John and Mycroft through not to mentioned herself. She saw him wince ever so slightly; his smile as he nodded his head in acknowledgement didn't reach his eyes and she knew in that moment just how much his sister had hurt him. She couldn't help it, her move was instinctive but she took hold of his hand and squeezed it slightly in support.

Sherlock glanced down at where their hands were connected but he didn't say anything nor did he pull away.

The conversation with Dr Piper drew to a close and they watched for a moment as he walked over to another man who had just appeared. Molly recognised Ricky and smiled at him waving her free hand still acutely conscious of the fact that Sherlock wasn't actually letting go of her other hand.

The conversation between Ricky and Dr Piper was short and then he was striding across the grass towards them. As he got closer he finally recognised her and his face split into a grin as he opened his arms for a hug. She moved towards him and let go of her hold on Sherlock's hand but for a split second he held on and she wasn't actually sure he'd release her but he finally did and she moved forward to embrace Ricky.

It was just over a year since she'd last seen him and he hadn't changed much in that time but he was very different from how he'd been as a teenager. Then he'd been skinny and pasty, into his music and CB radios, talking to anyone and everyone so long as they weren't on the island. He'd been determined to move away but here he still was. Now though he had filled out and as she embraced him all she felt was muscle. He was reasonably good looking if you liked brawn and he hadn't really been blessed in the brains department but Molly liked him all the same.

'Hoops, I'd heard you were back visiting your aunt.'

'Hey, yes I thought I'd spend Christmas here. I would have looked you up sooner but what with Robbie dying and all…'

'Yeah, man that was shit. I wouldn't have thought he'd be the type to commit suicide but I suppose you never really know what's going on in someone's head do you?'

There was a clearing of a throat behind them and Sherlock drawled. 'Yes well if we're done with all this trivia Molly maybe we can get on with something slightly more important.'

Molly rolled her eyes at his impatience and was surprised to see a quick flash of anger from Ricky but she turned to make some formal introductions.

 **Do you want another chapter tomorrow? If so, you know what I need xx**


	12. Chapter 12

**Wow, thank you so much for that response. I was left with no choice but to post again. Just remember I warned you about Sherlock being an idiot though.**

 **Chapter 12**

Molly listened in as Sherlock spoke to Ricky, quizzing him about the calor gas bottles, their age, where they came from, how often he checked them. He then went on to ask how long he'd worked for Dr Piper and what he'd done before that.

'Well, I didn't do that much. I cared for my mum, she wasn't well. I'd planned to leave before that but by the time she died I'd come to love the old place and I didn't want to leave. Anyway, Dr Piper gives me board and lodgings and in return I help maintain the place and keep the grounds in summer. It suits me.'

'And what, Charlie is just an added perk is she?'

Molly saw Ricky's hands ball into fists and he made to take a step forward but at the last minute he reined himself back in. 'What's that got to do with you? In fact, what's any of my life got to do with you? Just coz you know Hoops and you're some hot shot fucker from London it don't give you no right to stick your nose into my business. Now if you don't mind I've got work to do.'

He gave Molly a tight smile and turned, making his way towards the burnt out wreck of the lodge. Molly saw Sherlock watching him go with his eyes narrowed and a thoughtful look on his face.

'What? What do you see? You don't think Ricky's involved do you?'

He answered without looking at her, his attention still focused on the receding figure. 'I suspect everyone Molly, you should know that by now. So many secrets on this island, so many hidden lives.'

Molly frowned. If there were secrets and hidden lives here she hadn't seen any of them.

Sherlock suddenly turned on his heel and stalked back towards the gates and Molly hurried to catch him.

'What now?'

'Now I need to think. I feel like I have most of the pieces but I'm missing something and I need to see whether Lestrade has sent me any more information. I need to use your iPad.'

'Oh right, OK.'

When they made it back to her aunt's house he holed himself up in her bedroom and declined their offer for him to join them for lunch. Molly was used to how he could be on a case and so she left him to it, knowing he'd soon ask if he needed her help.

Instead she spent a cosy afternoon with her aunt wrapping up some last minutes Christmas presents and listening to carols on the radio. The snow was still falling and the fire in the hearth, the music, the company and the knowledge that Sherlock was just upstairs all just added together to make Molly feel about as content as she ever had at Christmas since the death of her parents.

Her aunt picked up on it and smiled at her as they drank some mulled wine together. 'He makes you happy doesn't he? I like that about him.'

Molly rolled her eyes. 'Oh Aunty you have no idea. He's probably put me through every emotion going, from sadness, to anger, to jealousy but yes, knowing him makes me happy. I've never met anyone quite like him and just being near him makes me feel so alive.'

'Then don't give up hope my dear. I have a good feeling about him. Now do we need to get ready for the Christmas Eve party at the pub? I've been looking forward to this all week.'

Molly chuckled. 'I know you have. It wouldn't have anything to do with Kirsty's dad would it?'

Her aunt blushed and tried to look shocked. 'Molly Hooper why ever would you say such a thing?'

'Because you two seem to have got very close since he retired…all those long conversations and walks. Well for what it's worth, I like him as well. You're never to old for love.'

'Oh, you are daft. Now is Sherlock coming with us?'

Molly glanced up at the ceiling as thought she could see through it to ask him. 'I don't know. I kind of doubt it but I'll ask. I need to go and get changed anyway.'

She knocked as she made it to her bedroom and Sherlock grunted for her to come in. She found him lying on her bed with his shoes kicked off, his hands steepled under his chin and his eyes closed.

'Hey. How're you getting on? Did you get what you wanted from Greg?'

'In part. He says that there's a delay on Robert's inquest and autopsy because of the "Christmas holidays".' He air quoted and the disgust in his voice made Molly giggle.

'I know, how very dare they have a break.'

Sherlock sat up and frowned. 'I don't know why that's funny Molly. There's already been one murder, possibly two if his dad was also killed and an attempt was made on my life. Who'll be next?'

Molly stomach dropped and she sat down next to him feeling worried all of a sudden. 'Do you honesty think someone else could die?'

Sherlock shrugged initially and then nodded. 'Yes and I don't like not knowing who. Listen Molly, don't go anywhere without me OK. I…I don't want you in danger at all.'

The mood suddenly seemed so much more serious than it should as he looked at her and she could feel her heart rate picking up and lust unfurling in her stomach. She knew she was going to embarrass herself if she wasn't careful and so she nudged him with her elbow and smiled. 'You'd best come with me to the pub then because auntie and I are going to the Christmas Eve party.'

He grimaced as though in pain. 'God I hate parties…' but then he sighed, '…I suppose it might help to mingle a bit more. I still have more information that I need to pick up. Who'll be there?'

Molly stood and went to open her wardrobe to get out her sole party dress wishing now that she'd brought something other than that black velvet number, the same one she'd worn to Baker St all those years ago. But how was she to know Sherlock would end up seeing it again.

'It's easier to say who won't be there. Everyone on this side of the island will be. It's fun. Anyway, I need to get changed.'

'OK.'

Sherlock lay back down on the bed and put his hands behind his head.

'Umm, I kind of meant for you to leave the room. I'm not planning on putting on a show for you.'

Sherlock smirked and raised an eyebrow. 'Why not? I see you've brought an old favourite with you. Please tell me you're not planning on sticking a bow in your hair again though.'

She swatted his leg trying to look angry. 'No, I'm not and I wouldn't have brought it at all if I'd known you'd be here. I know you hate it.'

He sat up and chuckled. 'Oh Molly if you think I hate that dress you don't know me at all.'

Then he stood up and left the room leaving Molly feeling utterly confused.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Half an hour later and they were all ready to go but Molly was grumbling about her footwear and the snow.

'I really didn't think this through did I.' She muttered as she looked at her black court shoes and the snow outside.

Her aunt chuckled, wrapped up more sensibly with thick fur lined boots on her feet. 'Why don't you wear your boots and carry your shoes. You can change into them at the pub. Now come on, I can already hear music so we're missing all the fun.'

Molly sighed and looked at her boots. 'I suppose…'

It was then that she heard a huff of frustration behind her. 'For God's sake if we're going to go to this thing let's just get going.' Then Sherlock swept her feet from under her as he picked her up. 'I'll carry you, problem solved now let's go.'

Molly wasn't sure she had ever been more surprised by him that she was in this moment. She'd let out a rather undignified squeak as he'd picked her up and her arms had automatically gone around his neck. Her aunt held the door for them and before she could even think of protesting he was walking them through the snow to the event.

She couldn't help but look at his face as he carried her. She felt as though she weighed nothing in his arms, he didn't show any signs of exertion at all and she wondered at how he kept so fit. He caught her gaze and smiled before mock slipping and laughing as she clung to him even tighter letting out a little shriek of fear.

'Don't worry Molly, I promise I won't drop you….right here we are.'

He set her down gently and as soon as his hands left her body she missed them. He opened the door for her and her aunt and the warmth and noise hit her as she made her way in. It seemed as though most of the island had turned up. The shop side of the business had all been pushed to one side to make way for more tables and chairs and there were very few seats left available but they managed to squeeze onto a table between Pete and Barry on one side and Dr Piper, his sister and Ricky on the other.

Charlie immediately beelined for Sherlock following him to the bar as he went to get them all some drinks. Molly felt jealousy rise up in her again as she saw the younger woman putting her hand on his arm and laughing at something he'd said. She saw Ricky watching them as well and she couldn't help but wonder how he must feel at seeing this but his face was inscrutable.

She was soon drawn into conversation with Barry and Kirsty joined them as things quietened down at the bar. She noticed that Sherlock had ended up chatting to Pete whilst Charlie and Ricky seemed to be making up. Kirsty's dad, Keith, had also come over and Molly couldn't help smiling at how happy her aunt looked as she spoke to him. Barry even commented on it, asking if he should buy a hat for any up and coming weddings and Molly just chuckled and agreed that she might need one too.

The evening wore on and the music got more and more corny with people joining in to sing along to Slade as the drinks flowed. Molly stood to nip to the loo and looked around to see if she could see where Sherlock had got to but there was no sign of him. She figured he was probably outside sneaking a cigarette.

She made her way down the narrow corridor just behind the bar and then turned the corner towards the toilet when she stopped dead in her tracks, her stomach rolling over in shock and disbelief. There, less than five metres from her were Sherlock and Pete and they weren't talking. No, they were locked in an embrace kissing as though their lives depended on it. Sherlock's hands in his hair and on his back and Pete's on Sherlock's hips pulling him closer to him.

For a moment Molly couldn't move, she wondered if she might even be sick…not because it was two men kissing but because it was Sherlock and until that moment she hadn't realised just how much she had built her hopes up. Hopes that we're now lying in tatters at her feet.

She let out a choked sob and then she turned and fled.

 **Go on, I know I'm going to get backlash for this so let me have it...just know that I'm blaming Sherlock. You know he always puts a case above everything else.**


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm dedicating this chapter to MetricJenn for her birthday, which is today. Happy Birthday and thank you for all your support and reviews.**

 **To the rest, those that celebrate, I wish a very Merry Christmas; I hope you have a fantastic time wherever you are and whoever you are with xxx**

 **Chapter 13**

Molly wasn't really thinking at all, she just knew that she needed to get out of there. She picked up her coat and heard her aunt asking if she was alright and heard herself answering that she was fine and that she just needed some air and peace and quiet. Then she was outside pulling on her coat and skittering her way through the snow and ice wishing she wasn't wearing such stupid shoes and such a stupid dress.

Just as she got to her aunt's house she heard a shout behind her. 'Molly! Molly stop, please.'

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep, shuddering breath wishing that it was anyone but Sherlock.

She turned and tried to smile. 'Hey, I'm fine. I just have a headache that's all.'

He had caught her up and she could see him starting to shiver already without his coat. She was painfully aware of how cold it was; her feet felt like ice blocks.

'You're not fine. You saw us didn't you, me and Pete.'

'I…I didn't mean to and it's none of my business, not really. I just...I feel for Barry that's all, he's a good man.'

'Listen Molly, can we go inside. I'm freezing out here…please.'

Molly sighed but let herself be taken into the house. He quickly knelt down and stoked up the fire whilst she went and nipped to the loo and put her slipper boots on to help her feet warm up.

By the time she came downstairs Sherlock was stood in front of the now blazing fire leaning on the mantelpiece and staring into the flames; he was lit only by the fire and the fairy lights strung up on the small tree in the corner. Her heart skipped a beat at seeing him looking so brooding, all cheekbones and shadows….but it was quickly followed by a lancing remembrance of seeing him kissing someone else. He would never be hers…never.

'You're right you know, Barry is a good man, I think. But even good men can be drawn to desperate measures when they feel betrayed. In case you were wondering I wasn't kissing Pete because I like him. I was kissing him to see how easy it was to make him cheat…and it was surprisingly easy. I think he had an affair with Robbie before he came back to the island. Maybe Pete killed him to stop Barry finding out…maybe Barry killed him in a fit of jealousy.'

He turned and looked at Molly who was standing in front of him, shocked at what he was saying.

'It's amazing what a person can do because of love don't you think. I don't think I ever really understood it before, the passion, the fear, the overwhelming feelings that you can have for one person.'

Molly found herself swallowing heavily as he took a step towards her. Her mind seemed to be operating on another level to her body. Every atom of her flesh wanted to be joined with Sherlock but her head was desperately holding her back.

He placed his hand on her face and let his thumb trace the outline of her cheek sending shivers through her body; shivers not of cold but of pure lust. She was caught in his gaze and couldn't look away, her heart was pounding in her chest. She felt as though they were on the cusp of something but she didn't quite know what.

'That person making me feel passion and love isn't Pete, it isn't Charlie…it's you Molly, it's always been you.'

Her breath caught in her throat as he said those words and she almost wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. This couldn't be happening, he couldn't be declaring himself, she must be mistaken. But even as she tried to comprehend it his face moved towards hers, she saw his eyes closing and then his mouth was on hers and she was floating, holding on to him so that he could ground her as his lips moved against her own.

His jumper felt as soft as it had looked and she could feel the solidness of his body underneath and she moaned at the sheer perfection of the moment. Yes she knew she needed to question him further about this apparent change of heart and yes she needed to berate him for what he had done with Pete but right here, right now she was going to enjoy this moment.

He pulled her closer to him as the kiss deepened and rather than holding onto his jumper she let her hands slide around his back feeling his muscles and his spine as he bent to kiss her more. Her mind was spinning and her body was reacting in so many ways as she pressed herself against him. She could hardly believe that this was Sherlock that she was kissing, it felt like a dream.

As his tongue entered her mouth she let out a moan of desire and one of his hands slid down to her bum pressing her against him and she could feel he was getting hard for her. It just made her own arousal spike and she knew in that moment that she wanted him, truly wanted him in every way possible. They'd spent years talking and being friends and there would be more time for talking later but right now she just wanted him.

She let her hands move down until she reached the waist band of his jeans and then she tugged and pulled at his t shirt until she could feel his naked skin. He felt warm from the heat of the fire and this time it was his turn to groan as her hands moved over him.

Finally he pulled away a little leaving them both breathing heavily and struggling to catch their breath. His eyes searched her own and she swallowed heavily at the look he was giving her. She had never seen desire written so plainly on his face as it was right now and it was stunning.

'God Molly, I want you. Tell me we can…' he took a breath and closed his eyes briefly as if trying to gather himself and she realised with a jolt just how affected he was by her.

She knew that he was probably way out of his comfort zone here and that she needed to step up and so she took hold of his hand and smiled when he looked at her once more. 'Yes…yes, we can. Come on.' Then she led him from the front room up the stairs and into her bedroom. It was only when she got there that her nerves started to take over again and she turned to him with her heart racing, hoping that she hadn't misunderstood him.

He flicked on a muted side light and then he took hold of the edge of his jumper and t shirt and swiftly pulled them over his head before letting them drop to the floor. It was as good a signal as any.

Molly stepped closer to him and placed her palms on his chest feeling his heart beating under her right hand. She was relieved to find that it seemed as fast as her own. His skin was warm and smooth with just a couple of small scars and she found herself leaning forward to kiss each of them hearing his breath shuddering as she did.

Molly looked up at him. 'Has it really been three years since you…'

She saw him swallow before he replied and she vowed to kiss his throat and up his neck, she'd always loved his neck. 'Longer….I lied. I never slept with Irene…I mean, she wanted to but I didn't. I just knew saying ten years would cause too many questions.'

Molly couldn't help the feeling of shock that rippled through her body. 'Ten years…'

'I was happy to abstain. I just never wanted to…until now, with you.'

He brought his hands to her hips and his lips back to her mouth and she returned his kiss as eagerly as he kissed her feeling all of his passion seeping into her bones. Her hands were around his neck moving into his hair, those lush curls; finally able to run her hands through them feeling how silky soft they were.

His hands moved up until his thumbs were brushing against the underneath of her breasts through the velvety material of her dress and she wished she was naked, she wanted his hands on her fully. He seemed to sense it and he moved them round her body until he was able to slowly pull down her zip revealing her back inch by inch.

It went all the way down to the curve of her backside and once open he wrapped his arms around her, his hands finally on her skin almost picking her up as the kiss continued. Molly hadn't ever realised what a good kisser Sherlock was and how much he seemed to give of himself through his kisses. She was losing herself in him, not knowing where he ended and she began. It was so much better than she had ever thought it would be.

Lust was swirling through her and without even thinking about it her hands went to the fastenings of his jeans, her wrists brushing against the flat planes of his stomach muscles as she undid the button and then pulled on the zip. She could feel his erection straining against the material as she undid it and Sherlock groaned again making her inner muscles contract.

Before she could do more he pulled away and brought his hands to the straps of her dress, his eyes seeking permission from her before he pulled them and the dress down and away from her body.

She had to fight the urge to cover herself in front of him instead watching his expression as her body was revealed to him. She wasn't wearing a bra and she saw his eyes widen slightly and his tongue brushed over his lips as he saw her breasts and she just hoped he liked what he saw.

Once the dress pooled around her ankles he scanned her from head to foot and it was only when his lips twitched into a smirk that she looked down and saw she was still wearing her slipper boots over her hold up stockings. She could have died from embarrassment but he fell to his knees and hooked his hand around the back of her left knee prompting her to put one hand on his shoulder for balance whilst he took one slipper off and then the other.

When he stayed on his knees Molly felt her legs tremble slightly, the image before her almost too much for her to take in.

He pressed a slow kiss to her hip bone just above her pants, his hands holding her hips steady. She wove her hands into his hair and looked down at him and her breath caught in her throat when his eyes flicked to hers before he sucked the skin into his mouth marking her.

She wanted him so much it felt like an ache between her legs throbbing and pulsing with need and so she moved one step backwards until she could lie down on the bed bringing him with her until he was lay above her, the weight of his body feeling so right on her own, like they were born to be together and she couldn't wait to feel him inside her.

 **Looks as though Sherlock has unwrapped his present early. Am I forgiven for yesterday's bad ending by leaving you with this one? I'll be back on Boxing Day with the next part...until then take care and happy holidays xx**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you so much for all your replies and wishes for a good Christmas. I had a great time with my family and with my neighbours. I'm sorry I didn't get to reply to anyone but just know that I loved every review. Normal service should be resumed now that I have a bit more time again xx**

 **Chapter 14**

As they kissed she could feel the weight of him, his chest pressed against her own and his hips gently rocking against her causing her to moan into his mouth. His hand moved up her side from her hip bone and over her ribs until he was cupping her breast with his thumb brushing along the sensitive skin underneath. All she wanted was to feel more of him, to feel him inside her, filling her…she ached to be with him and it had her reaching for the button of his jeans.

He shifted and then helped her to remove them, having to pause to take off his boots and socks and he slid his shorts down with the jeans so that when he returned to join her he was completely naked.

Her hands roamed his skin as she arched towards him needing to feel as much of him as possible. This whole scenario felt a bit like a dream and she still wasn't quite sure that she understood how they had got there but now wasn't the moment to question it. Now was the moment to just enjoy it, finally being with Sherlock, kissing him, feeling him.

His hand covered her breast this time and he kneaded her skin hearing her moan in response before he kissed his way down her neck until he replaced his hand with his mouth. Instead his hand traveled south until he pressed it against her damp knickers and all she could do was buck her hips up in response as she closed her eyes and just gave in to her physical desires.

It didn't take him long to slide his hand inside the silky material and then she could feel him parting her, his fingers toying with her as he explored her fully. When he eventually teased two fingers inside her she could feel her eyes roll back in her head as she let out a loud moan. He seemed to know just where to touch her for maximum effect and it wasn't long before she was writhing under him calling out his name as her first orgasm washed over her.

She was still recovering from it as he dragged her pants down her legs and then he was positioning himself at her entrance and looking in her eyes as he asked her for her consent. 'Are you sure Molly?'

His voice was low and rough and she had never seen such a look of naked desire on his face before and she knew that she had never been more sure of anything in her life. She nodded and used her hands to urge him on, watching his expression as he finally pushed into her.

He went slowly and she could see how much it was affecting him by the way he closed his eyes and bit on his lip. 'God, Molly, you feel so good. I didn't know that you would feel this good.'

He seemed surprised…shocked…and it reminded her just how long it had been for him and even though she was desperate for him to move…to just thrust into her…she gave him time, knowing he needed to adjust to it.

Her hands trailed up and down his back and she loved the feel of him. She reached up and kissed his neck, letting her tongue slide up the length of it, feeling rather than hearing him groaning in response.

He took a shuddering breath and she could feel his cock twitching deep inside her and she had no doubt that she would come again. Almost the fact of him not moving, just pressing into her, had her moaning and feeling her arousal starting to build once more.

Slowly he withdrew until he was almost fully out of her and then he thrust back in and she cried out as she felt him hit all the right spots, her hands suddenly grappling with his back side as she widened her legs just that little bit more.

He bent his head to kiss her and his tongue tangled with her own as he started to move and she could feel that, on this occasion at least, neither of them would be able to hold off and wait.

As his movements became rougher and more desperate she could feel herself getting closer and closer to her own release and she urged him on, her hands on his hips helping to guide his movements until she could feel him starting to falter. It was him crying out her name just before he came that sent her over the edge and she could feel him pulsing into her as her climax hit her so hard that she felt as though she almost blacked out for a moment.

He sagged against her and she took it, holding him as close as she could as they both tried to catch their breath and come to terms with what had just happened. Molly couldn't help but worry that he might regret it somehow but that didn't appear to be the case as he finally lifted himself back up and smiled as he looked down on her, kissing her once more, this time slow and languid before he finally pulled out of her.

She made her way to the bathroom on legs that felt shaky and weak and she wasn't sure if it was the exertion that caused it or just the fact of who it was that she had just had amazing sex with.

She pondered putting her aunt's old dressing gown on to go back to the bedroom but it was a little late to be getting shy with Sherlock and so, after stripping off her stockings and throwing them in the wash basket she made her way back in naked.

He was tucked up under the covers and as she walked in he threw back the duvet so that she could crawl underneath. It was only now that she was starting to realise how cold it was in the room and she was glad that she had a warm body to cuddle up to. He put his arms around her and she felt him pressing his lips to the top of her head. She knew they probably ought to talk but the moment felt so perfect and as tiredness washed over her she fell asleep instead.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

She came to the next morning when she heard Sherlock's phone buzz with an incoming text just before her own did.

She yawned and stretched as he reached over and retrieved his from the bedside cabinet where he'd left it the night before, neither of them had bothered taking them to the pub.

As he tapped away with his left hand on the screen she moved alongside him resting her head on his chest and kissing his skin as his other arm came around her shoulder to hold her close and she smiled to herself at just how natural it felt.

She certainly didn't notice that Sherlock had just taken a selfie of them and it was only when he chuckled that she looked up to see what he was doing.

'What is it?'

'Hmm…oh John has just sent me a text with a photo of him and Rosie, wishing me a Merry Christmas. I suspect you got the same thing. I just texted him back with a photo of us.'

At the same moment as her eyes snapped open and she uttered the words 'a photo?' his phone rang with an incoming FaceTime.

'Morning John.'

'Don't morning me was that a picture of you and Molly in your bed?'

'No, not at all.'

'Well, it looked like Molly.'

'Oh it was…it is…' he angled his phone a little more so that Molly could see John's shocked expression and she waved shyly even as she pulled the sheet up a bit higher.

Sherlock continued still full of amusement. '…it just isn't my bed.'

'What the hell Sherlock?'

At that Sherlock started laughing. 'John, you should see your face. It's almost as funny as that time in the tube train when you thought you were about to die.'

'Once again Sherlock that wasn't funny. You were an utter arse…but seriously…you and Molly? When did that happen?'

'Last night but it's been coming on for a while. About time…ay Molly?' He looked over at her and gave her such a sweet genuine smile that all she could do was nod and smile back.

'Well in that case I'm happy…for both of you. Anyway, I'd better go Harry is nagging me to help start the cooking. You can give me all the details when you get back to London. Merry Christmas.'

Sherlock disconnected and then threw his phone back on the cabinet before lying back down and facing Molly.

'I've never really bothered saying this before but Merry Christmas Molly Hooper.'

She let her lips curl up into a happy smile and she bit her bottom lip before responding with her own Christmas greetings and then she leant forward and kissed him, just because she could.

Within seconds he had pulled her over and onto him so her knees were either side of his hips and she could feel just how happy he was to be kissing her….but before they could go any further they were interrupted by a tapping on the bedroom door.

'Molly…Sherlock, ten minutes until breakfast.'

Molly pulled away, already breathing heavily. 'OK Auntie.' Then she turned back to Sherlock and groaned.

'I suppose we ought to get up and get dressed.'

'I don't see why we have to.' His lips were on her neck and his hands were on her backside and she could feel his erection pulsing against her centre and even though she knew they didn't really have time she couldn't help but respond by moving herself against him, feeling all those shocks of arousal as her body responded to him.

She closed her eyes and tried to rein in her need for him but it wasn't going to go away and so she looked at him and smirked. 'Sod it, but we need to be fast.'

It felt different somehow in the cold light of day, more real. Molly watched his face as she slowly slid herself down onto his length and seeing his reactions so clearly, the blues green of his eyes actually darkening with his desire, just set off a chain reaction within her.

His hands cupped her breasts and as she started to rock above him he brought his head up until he could capture her nipple in his mouth and she could feel him playing with it using his teeth and his tongue and every action seemed to connect to her groin until she was panting and crying out feeling another mind-numbing orgasm overtaking her. It was as if he was made just for her…she had never come so much and so fast with a new lover…ever.

He came when she did, his hips almost lifting her off the bed with his need to push himself as deep inside her as he could physically get and when they finished they were both out of breath and giggling knowing they had little to no time to get ready to go downstairs.

Sherlock dressed first putting on a different t shirt and jumper that Pete had dropped off the day before and he was about to go downstairs as Molly finished brushing her teeth and started trying to sort her hair out. She cursed him for sending John a photo when she looked so bad but he just frowned and kissed her forehead as he commented that she had looked beautiful to him. For a moment she wondered if he was being sarcastic but he looked so guileless in that moment that she just took the compliment and let it warm her heart.

 **I hope this chapter warmed your hearts too...a little smut as a post-Christmas present. Don't worry though we'll be getting back to the murder mystery very soon..after all the title does say Murders and not murder!**


	15. Chapter 15

**So we're all now in the 'inbetween' that weird time between Christmas and New Year where we carry in eating too much and forget what day it is...best time of year. Glad you all seem to be enjoying your holiday time and the progression of the story. Shall we get on?**

 **Chapter 15**

By the time she got downstairs Sherlock was tucking into bacon and eggs and engaging in some kind of argument with her aunt.

'But I just didn't see the point of it. It's just another day, nothing special about it at all. I mean why do we celebrate it anyway…what's it all about?'

'What do you mean..what's it all about? Surely you know the meaning of Christmas…everyone does.'

'Well, maybe they do but most people are idiots so I don't gauge what I need to know based on them. It just seems like an excuse for everyone to just sit about doing nothing and stuffing their faces.'

'So what if it is?'

Sherlock huffed and rolled his eyes. 'I'd rather be working and I'd rather the people I need were just there and available.'

Molly couldn't help but giggle at his outburst. It was so typically Sherlock and Molly knew that no matter what her aunt said he would never quite understand people's sentimental need for Christmas. She did wonder though if he'd be joining them for dinner up at the Manor House. It was an island tradition for them to all go up there and have one big communal meal rather than lots of smaller ones in their own homes. The odd few ducked out of it but most joined in and everyone brought something by way of food, drinks or dessert. It had always been the Conan-Saunders responsibility to provide the turkeys and Molly wondered who had taken that on this year. She asked her aunt as she sat down to her own cooked breakfast.

'They'd already ordered and paid for them for this year but I don't think any of us have thought beyond that. I don't even know who will inherit now that Robbie is dead.'

Sherlock swallowed the last of his egg and held up his knife. 'Umm…I know that. It's Charlie.'

Both aunt and niece looked at him in shock. 'Charlie?'

He picked up his mug of tea and smirked. 'I thought that might surprise you…though I did wonder whether you picked up on my comment the other night Molly.'

'Yes, I did. When you gave out your theories I suspected one of them was the truth. So Charlie is Stephen Conan-Saunder's daughter then?'

'Yes, I don't think she knows yet though. It will be down to the solicitor to inform them but it was in his will….a reference to the daughter he had never wanted or acknowledged but stating that in the event of Robbie's dying within one month of inheriting she would be eligible for the lot."

Molly sat back in her chair and tried to wrap her head around the idea. 'Do you think she might have found out and killed them both?'

It was her aunt who chipped in first. 'Oh Molly, don't be ridiculous.' Then she paused looking worried. 'It is ridiculous isn't it?' She looked at Sherlock for confirmation but he just shrugged. 'That's what I'm trying to work out but I haven't found any evidence to back up that theory so far.'

It was his desire to be able to study the Pipers in a bit more detail that had him joining Molly and her aunt later that morning as they made their way up to the Manor House for the Christmas meal. All three of them helped to carry the peeled potatoes for roasts and the desserts that Evie had baked. The sky was grey and moody but the snow from the night before was thick on the ground and Molly loved crunching her way up the hill. It felt like the perfect accompaniment to the day and was the icing on the cake of her mood.

It was soon squashed though when they arrived at the Manor; all thoughts of meals seemed to have been forgotten as they found the establishment in a state of mild panic.

It was Dr Piper who greeted them and his attitude couldn't have been more different from their first meeting in that house. 'Oh thank goodness you're here Mr Holmes I was just about to send Ricky down to get you. It's my sister Charlie; she appears to be missing.'

Sherlock immediately took over asking all those gathered when they had last seen her and where.

Everyone mentioned the pub the night before. At the end of the evening people had all left at different times and Dr Piper had assumed she had gone back to Ricky's whilst Ricky had assumed she had wanted an early night and had gone back to her own place.

'We were very casual you see and to be honest with you she called the shots about when we got together and when we didn't so it wasn't a massive surprise that she hadn't told me she was leaving.'

Dr Piper butted in. 'I only realised when Ricky here showed up without her.'

'Has anyone checked her rooms?'

Dr Piper nodded. 'Yes, I did. I thought she might just have overslept.'

'Let me see them.'

Dr Piper just nodded and led Sherlock off to show him leaving Molly and her aunt looking nervously at each other and wondering if this had anything to do with Sherlock's revelation over breakfast.

Most other people had arrived by then and once Sherlock got back from his inspection of the rooms they were starting to break up into search parties. It was Sherlock who gave them the locations of where to look and he himself led the search party down near the pub. Molly joined his group and he chatted away to her as they walked, going through his thought processes and refining them.

'Something must have happened in the pub last night. No one remembers seeing her leave but everyone seemed to have had some sort of interaction or conversation with her. If she has been killed, and I suspect she has, the killer won't have had much time…plus this snow prevents anyone from going far without leaving tracks. I'd be surprised if her body is less than fifty feet from the pub.'

He was correct in his deduction and once they were looking for her she was found in less than half an hour. Her frozen body was located just as Sherlock had predicted less than fifty feet from the back of the pub in the grassy wasteland that led off towards the lighthouse.

The weather was deteriorating further as Molly was called over and asked to give an initial examination. The wind was bitingly cold picking up the loose snow and swirling it around her as she tried to make her initial assessment. The clouds were rolling in and darkening as Sherlock took photographs of both the body and the surrounding area.

Apart from the tracks of those that had found her there was only one other set but Sherlock was limited in what he could get from them. The grassland hadn't retained any prints and further snowfall had covered up any defining marks just leaving a slightly flattened trail and nothing more. He followed it all the way to the back area of the pub though but then it was just lost amongst all the other tracks and footprints.

When he got back to Molly she was shivering with the cold but she was able to inform him that Charlie had suffered a non-fatal blow to the head followed by strangulation which appeared, on a cursory exam, to be the cause of death.

By the time she had finished Molly's festive mood was all but gone. She was colder that she thought she had ever been before and she was wet from where she had been kneeling in the snowy grass with the body of the woman she had been so stupidly jealous of. All she felt for her now was pity and sadness…and an anger at whoever had done this to her.

Storm clouds were obviously gathering now and when Sherlock checked in to see whether the police could make it over to the island he was told that it wouldn't be today as it was too dangerous for both boats and a Helicopter given the forecast for a serious storm, if not a hurricane, moving in.

Molly wrapped her arms around herself and stamped her feet to try to get some heat back into them. 'We can't leave her here but any effort to move her will contaminate the evidence.'

Sherlock huffed and looked around him, staring up at the clouds whilst the wind tugged and pulled at his hair and coat and scarf.

'We'll have to wrap her in a tarpaulin and move her to one of the outhouses near the Manor House.' He glanced back at her and she saw creases of concern on his face. 'You're cold.'

It was a statement rather than a question but she nodded and tried to smile without her teeth chattering too much.

'Go and get warm, have a hot shower and change your clothes. I'll arrange for her to be moved. Come up to the Manor House once you're able to; I know you can't complete a full autopsy but it would be good to bag up and record her clothes and other items and give her a more thorough examination.'

He stepped forward and kissed her quickly and her heart beat spiked as he did. Even feeling as cold and miserable as she was a kiss from him could still elicit a smile and an underlying feeling of lust.

'Stay safe Molly Hooper.'

Then he turned and started to shout orders at a couple of the guys who had come with them from the Manor House. Molly saw Pete was one of them and she gave him a quick wave as she made her way back down the incline towards the back of the houses. She was more than glad that she didn't have too far to go and she breathed a sigh of relief when she finally made it to her aunt's house.

She closed the door behind her having to almost lean on it to click it shut against the strength of the wind. She'd never been on the island during a hurricane before and she hoped that it wouldn't be too serious, it was the last thing they all needed in the middle of a murder investigation. She shook her head in disbelief when she remembered that it was also Christmas Day…she'd had to work a couple of christmases before but this one was certainly the one that she'd remember forever…for more reasons than one.

She stripped off her clothes as the shower warmed up and she shuddered in relief as she stood under it, grateful that the water pressure meant it was a reasonably powerful flow. For a good couple of minutes she just stood and let the water start to warm her through before she washed her hair and her body. She didn't want to get out and it was only when the water started to cool that she finally switched it off and wrapped herself up in a couple of the fluffy pink towels similar to the one that she'd seen Sherlock in the day before.

Thinking of that had her remembering the night before and this morning and just how good being with Sherlock had been. She had expected him to be nervous or inexperienced but he was neither and even thinking about him had her body responding again and she hoped it wouldn't be too long before they were able to be together again.

She dried herself off, resisting the temptation to snuggle up in the bed with the warmth of the duvet and the towels combined. Instead she dressed in another pair of jeans along with a couple of t shirts and jumper. She even put on two pairs of socks to try to ensure that her feet stayed warmer. She had no idea where the body would be placed but she could guarantee that the location would be a cold one.

As she sat and dried her hair she heard a knock at the door downstairs. She wondered who it could be as she made her way downstairs and was surprised to see Barry being buffeted about by the wind when she opened the door. She ushered him in quite quickly and waited whilst he unwrapped his scarf and took off his gloves.

'Hey Molly. Sherlock asked me to come and collect you. He needs you up at the lighthouse.'

'The Lighthouse? What's he doing there?'

Barry shrugged. 'Seems as though there wasn't anywhere else to put Charlie's body so it's been taken there. He said something about you carrying out some sort of exam of the body?'

Yes, OK. Do you want to take a seat whilst I finish drying my hair? I don't want to go out with it wet.'

She left Barry to it downstairs and went back up to finish getting ready. It didn't take long but she spent an extra five minutes going through her belongings and her aunt's kitchen trying to think of anything she could take with her that might be useful. She had to admit that she wasn't looking forward to heading back out. The wind was howling around the buildings now and every instinct in her body was telling her to stay put but she couldn't let Sherlock down. She wouldn't.

 **Go on, what do you think so far? And are any of sad that Charlie is dead? I'll be back soon with the next chapter. Could even be tomorrow...we shall see xx**


	16. Chapter 16

**This chapter development is for MichaelaPendragon who was stuck in the path of the recent Hurricane Irma. She also requested that Sherlock and Molly get trapped.**

 **Chapter 16**

As soon as Molly walked outside the wind was tearing at her hair and clothes. She had never experienced weather quite like it and she had to admit it scared her.

She had to shout at Barry to make herself heard even though he was only a couple of feet from her. 'Are you sure we should be out in this? It's seems risky trying to get to the lighthouse, maybe we should wait?'

Barry shook his head. 'We can hunker down once we're there. Sherlock was very insistent that I bring you and he's not the sort of guy to cross. Come on, put your arm through mine and we'll be OK together.'

Molly did as he suggested and slowly they made their way up the path at the back of the houses and over towards the lighthouse. Molly tried to see if she could spot anyone near the building but the snow was whipping up around them stinging her face and she could only vaguely make out its outline in the distance. Something was nagging at the back of her mind but she couldn't quite work out what it was but she felt anxious and unsettled. It didn't feel right.

They were just over half way when her fears got the better of her and she tugged on Barry's arm.

'I think we should go back. Maybe go to the Manor House instead.'

'Don't be daft, we're almost there. Sherlock will be waiting for you.'

Molly shook her head and frowned. 'No, no I don't think he will. He said he'd be at the Manor House.'

She could see Barry's face change, morphing into anger, and fear settled low in her gut.

'I've already told you why he changed his mind. Why don't you just take my word for it?'

He was pulling her along by now not letting go of her arm and she actively started digging her heels in trying to stop him. When he turned and back handed her across her face the shock and the pain tore the air from her lungs and she staggered and almost fell as he continued to pull on her arm.

'You had to be fucking awkward didn't you.' He yelled at her over the wind as he dragged her along. He had banked right and instead of heading towards the lighthouse they were making their way through the gorse grass and snow down towards the cliff edge. Molly's mouth was dry with fear and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest even as she pulled against his grasp. She needed to get away…there wasn't a doubt in her mind that he was going to kill her but she didn't know why.

A second punch to her stomach winded her completely and as she doubled over in pain trying to catch her breath he picked her up and she knew her time was running out. Even though it was pointless she found herself crying out for Sherlock to help her but her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper.

The wind and the hailstones, which the snowfall was now becoming, hampered his progress but it wasn't long before he had her at the edge and she knew her time had run out. She pulled off her mitten without him noticing and even with the cold biting at her fingers she closed them around the metal object that she'd hurriedly shoved into her pocket along with sandwich bags and latex gloves…items that she'd gathered for a makeshift autopsy.

He threw her down onto the icy cold ground and she half stood pulling back and away from the cliffs, terror making her movements instinctive even as he grabbed hold of her and started to push her closer.

'Why! Just tell me why?'

'Because it's all your fault. If you hadn't doubted how that that fucker Sanders-Cohen had died that bastard Sherlock Holmes wouldn't have come to this island and taken Pete away from me again.'

The wind whipped half his words away but Molly had heard enough. She was just desperate to keep him talking. She knew what she had to do but even now she didn't want to do it.

'But why…why was Robbie here…at the lighthouse?'

'Because he thought he was meeting Pete to fuck him. They'd been having an affair on the mainland and Pete stupidly thought I would know, he always thinks I don't know but I always do. And I won't lose him, I can't.'

'And what about Charlie?'

He shrugged and dragged her another foot closer to the cliff edge. 'Bad luck really, she saw me up near Sherlock's lodge and asked me on Christmas Eve what I was doing there.'

'You can't kill me. Sherlock will know, he'll work out that it was you.'

'I can and I will and maybe second time round won't be so lucky for Mr Sherlock fucking Holmes.'

Molly knew it was no good, Barry was psychotic, he'd convinced himself that what he was doing was alright and that he'd get away with it and no amount of begging on her part was going to change that. The time had come.

Just as he picked her up once more she took the sharp, metal scissors from her pocket and plunged them into his leg severing his femoral artery. She felt the warm gush of blood wash over her ice cold hand and at the same time he staggered. For a split second she thought they were both going to go over the cliff and she screamed throwing her weight in the opposite direction. His grip loosened and she fell to the floor with Barry landing heavily on top of her.

For a moment they fought and he lifted her head and slammed it back down onto the solid surface of the frozen ground and her vision blurred but the blood loss from his leg was too great and as he tried to stand he staggered and lost his footing.

For a split second they looked at each other and time seemed to stop. She saw the fear of death in his eyes and the windmilling of his arms in slow motion and then he was falling backwards over the edge of the cliff; the wind catching his scream and ripping it away from him as he fell.

She lay for a moment looking at the space where he'd been, trying to comprehend that she had just killed a man but then her own survival kicked in. She tried to get up but her head was pounding and she felt so tired and so damn cold. She turned her head and looked up at the lighthouse but it seemed so far away and she had no energy. The hailstones hurt her face and the wind hurt her eyes and so she curled up into a fetal ball trying to protect herself. _I just need a minute…just one, just to get my energy back and then I'll move._

Molly's final thought as she drifted into darkness was of Sherlock. She could hear him calling her name and it sounded like the most beautiful sound in the world.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock had made his way up to the Manor House with the body. Pete and Barry had helped him carry it up and Ricky had located a room in the basement of the Manor House for her to be taken to.

Emotions had been running high, the house was in chaos and Ricky and Dr Piper were now fighting over who was to blame for her death and all Sherlock wanted to do was get out of there. It was the worst time therefore for Pete to hit on him again but hit on him he had.

He caught Sherlock by surprise and they kissed for about two seconds before Sherlock pushed him off and told him in no uncertain terms not to touch him again.

Pete had accused him of using him and Sherlock had not disabused him of that fact and instead had stated outright that if it hadn't been for Pete and his philandering none of them would be in the situation they were.

By the time he had explained his theory to the occupants of the house Barry was nowhere to be found. They started to look for him but Sherlock had a sick feeling that he might know where he had gone and who was in danger. He had run from the house out into the heart of a hurricane but he didn't care. If Molly was in danger he couldn't sit by and do nothing.

Cold and exhausted from fighting the weather he'd tried her aunt's house first and then Barry's house but there was no sign of either of them. He was just about to head back towards the Manor House and organise a search party when he heard what seemed like a distant shout from the direction of the lighthouse.

His head swung in that direction and he had to shield his eyes from the hail to try to see anything but it was no good, the weather was getting increasingly dangerous and he couldn't even be sure that what he had heard had been human but he set off towards the path that took him to the lighthouse. He wasn't even sure he could make it there and he knew for definite that if he did he would be trapped there for the duration but he felt sick with fear for Molly and he couldn't turn back.

It felt as though he was wading through treacle as he made his way over. His clothes were damp with all the snow and hail being whipped around him and he felt utter exhaustion as he reached the lighthouse and his heart sank once he searched inside and he realised it was empty. He'd failed her. He always failed her but this time she was going to pay the price with her life rather than just her heart and he hadn't even had chance to tell her just what she meant to him.

He opened the door to try to head back out but even as he did he knew it was pointless. The weather was too bad and he'd never make it back to the houses let alone the Manor House. He was about to close the door and hunker down when he saw it. A glimpse of pink and purple down by the cliff edge; he didn't need to see it twice.

His muscles protested as he made his way back out into the wind and his breath seemed to be ripped from his lungs as soon as he'd taken it but he plunged on picking up speed as he started to realise that not only could he see her scarf flapping in the wind but it was attached to a body.

Finally he fell to his knees by her side and he dragged his glove off so he could check for a pulse and he gave up a silent prayer when he felt it.

Even as he picked her up his eyes took in everything; the blood on her hand, the dropped scissors almost covered by snow, the scuff marks and blood stains at the edge of the cliff. He didn't bother to look over to see the body instead he turned and painfully…slowly... made his way back up the incline towards safety and the lighthouse. If he could just get Molly there they would at least be sheltered from the worst and they could wait out the storm.

His legs and arms were shaking with effort but he kept his eyes on the door and put one foot in front of the other and it was sheer determination and desperation that got them both there in the end.

 **So, did you get it right? Barry was the killer and it was all because of love. And what do you think Molly and Sherlock can do to pass the time in the lighthouse...after all they need to share body heat to stay warm ;)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Happy New Year everyone. A day or so late but I hope you'll forgive me. I was away over New Year plus it was my birthday. But we won't leave Sherlock and Molly shivering any longer xx**

 **Chapter 17**

Molly came too shivering a little even as she felt heat seeping into her bones. She could feel the steady thump thump of a heartbeat and arms were holding her close rubbing up and down her back to get more heat into her.

She could hear the wind whistling outside and the crash of distant waves hitting the coastline and she tried to work out where she was and how she had got there. She remembered trying to get to the lighthouse with Barry, her fear when she realised that he was the killer and then all of a sudden she remembered stabbing him with the scissors and she choked back a cry as she struggled to sit up.

Sherlock moved forwards with her as she sat up and gripped her arms as if to stop her moving away. 'Hey, you're safe. We're in the lighthouse because of the storm. You were cold when I found you but I don't think you're hypothermic so I must have reached you in time.'

She looked around and tried to get her bearings. They were on the first floor of the lighthouse, the only floor with no door to the outside just windows which were thankfully still glazed. They were sat on the mattress and bar her t shirt, socks, knickers and the old blanket, which was wrapped around her shoulders, she was naked. As she looked down at herself Sherlock spoke again.

'You were wet, we both were, I had to remove the damp clothing. She looked back at him and realised that he was similarly dressed with his Belstaff wrapped around his shoulders and she leant back against him seeking out the warmth that she had had a few minutes ago.

'I…I killed him.' As she said the words the enormity of what she had done hit her and she let out a choked sob.

She felt Sherlock nod against the top of her head. 'I know.'

'He was going to throw me over, I didn't have a choice.' Her voice caught in her throat as she reached the end of the sentence and his arms tightened their grip, holding her closer as a couple of tears leaked from her eyes.

As she sniffed he spoke. 'I'd had my suspicions as you know. The dynamic in that relationship was unequal, Barry had lied about being ill and needing to move and even then he couldn't stop Pete from having affairs. He must have found out about the relationship with Robert, probably from spying on texts or emails and he set up a fake meeting here at the lighthouse with him. Maybe he didn't come intending to kill him but that's how it ended up. He tried to kill me or scare me off with the explosion and I suspect that Charlie died because she knew it or had seen something and she made the mistake of mentioning it to Barry himself rather than me.'

Molly sniffed again and nodded her head. 'He…he told me everything. He was going to kill me…blamed me for bringing you here, for not believing Robbie's death was a suicide. I can't believe I killed him.'

'Shh, you did the right thing. It was self-defence and I'm glad: I…I can't imagine a world without you in it. When I realised you were both missing, that he'd gone after you…'

Molly heard the emotion in his voice and she lifted her head and placed her hand on his cheek. 'Hey, I'm OK. I'm not going anywhere.'

She shifted a little in his hold so she could reach up and press her lips against his and she could feel his hands against her back, gripping the material of her t shirt tightly as he responded to her kiss. At first it felt comforting and gentle but as his tongue entered her mouth she felt herself responding to him more physically. It wasn't the right time or place but she didn't care, they were alive and they were together and that was all that mattered.

This time when she moved it was to straddle him and her hands went around his neck and laced themselves into the damp strands of his hair as she pressed herself against him, feeling her breasts flatten out against his chest and her centre rubbing deliciously on what seemed to be a burgeoning erection in his pants. He groaned and she felt it throughout her body and it just seemed to spur her on. Within seconds her hands were freeing his cock and moving her own knickers aside and then she was sliding down onto him, feeling him hardening more even as she did.

He broke off from kissing her just long enough to utter a muted 'fuck' and then his mouth was on her neck sucking and biting, marking her.

Molly just rocked against him feeling him deep within her and all the while she could feel her desperate desire for him mounting, growing inside her, urging her on. She knew, in her head, that it hadn't been that long since they'd last had sex, only a matter of hours but it felt like a lifetime ago. It was as though she needed to prove to herself that they were both here, both alive, thumbing her nose up to the death that she'd come so close to.

His hands moved under her t shirt and moved the material just enough that he could close his mouth over one exposed nipple and she leant back to give him more access. That one movement pressed her clit harder against him and she started to feel her climax as it began to wash over her. She squeezed her eyes shut as she came, knowing she was being noisy as she called out his name but aware that any sounds she made would be drowned out by the hurricane that was bashing the island into submission.

As she rode out her orgasm she could already feel another building but this time it was Sherlock who moved, twisting them until she was lay underneath him on the mattress. There was a couple of moments of wriggling and tugging until they positioned the coat and blanket over them and then he started to thrust inside her and all she could do was hold on.

Every movement he made seemed to set off more shockwaves inside her and she was crying out for more, needing him to go deeper and harder. Her nails bit into the skin of his backside as he slammed into her and she just wanted more of him, everything that he could give her. By the time he came she had lost track of where they were; the weather, the situation…everything. All that mattered was his release and hers. Sweat covered their bodies and as her orgasm ripped through her she could feel him pulsing inside her, releasing his seed into her waiting body.

As he sagged down onto her she welcomed the weight of him, holding him tight as she tried to get her breath back, kissing the skin between his shoulder and his neck and feeling him doing the same to her.

When he moved to the side she moved with him, needing his heat, needing to feel him close to her and he must have felt the same because he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him so their legs were tangled together and her head was on his shoulder.

She lay there listening to the storm, hearing it start to shift, recognising that the ferocity seemed to have gone out of it and the wind was just that bit less forceful. Her eyes started to close and she felt all the stress of the last few hours washing off her as she finally gave in to sleep.

She had no idea what time it was when Sherlock finally woke her but when he did it was dark outside and the wind, whilst still blowing, was substantially calmer than it had been.

'It's getting better and I think we need to try to get back before we're stuck here all night. Your clothes are dry enough and we should be able to make it back to your aunt's house quite easily. Do you think you're up to it?'

Molly rubbed her eyes and nodded wishing she had some water or juice; her mouth felt so dry and she realised that breakfast was the last time she had had a proper drink or even something to eat.

Her jeans felt damp and cold as she pulled them on and likewise her jumper and she knew she needed to get moving and stay moving to keep her body temperature up. Sherlock dressed as she did and neither of them spoke as they made their way down the stairs and over to the door. It was only when his hand was on the door handle that he finally looked at her. 'Are you ready?'

She nodded and tried to smile and then she took the hand that he offered her as he pulled open the door and together they headed out into the darkness.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Thankfully Sherlock had a torch with him but even so it seemed to take them forever to make their way back down the narrow path towards the small village centre. Molly could see the lights blazing in the distance and it gave her a focus and a drive. She knew if she could just make it there would be heat and food and maybe even one of her aunt's hot chocolates. If she just kept putting one foot in front of the other she would get there. It helped that Sherlock's hand didn't leave her own, he held on supporting her when she stumbled, giving her strength when she felt weak. The last 24 hours with him had been the best and worst of her life but she had no intention of letting go of him.

Finally, they made it to the little row of houses and when Sherlock opened the door of her aunt's house the warmth that enveloped her almost made her cry, she was so desperately in need of it.

Within seconds her aunt was by her side as was Pete and Dr Piper and she pretty much collapsed knowing that she didn't have to go any further. They helped her and Sherlock to the settee and Molly could hear her aunt fussing around telling Pete to take off their coats and get some blankets from upstairs. Dr Piper was taking her pulse and asking her how she felt and all she could do was ask for something to drink.

A moment later and her aunt was passing her some water and telling her that she'd have some hot chocolate very, very soon.

Twenty minutes later and Molly felt so much better. She was snuggled up on the settee with Sherlock, wrapped up in her pyjamas, a dressing gown and sharing a fleece; the heat from the fire bathing them both in a warm, idyllic glow. Her aunt had supplied the two of them with hot chocolates and they were eating turkey and stuffing sandwiches and warm mince pies. The one thing they had both avoided and that they could avoid no more were Pete's increasingly desperate enquiries about Barry and whether they had seen him or knew where he was. Molly was just glad that it was Sherlock who spoke to answer his questions.

He was quick to tell him that Barry was dead, he'd never been one for vague euphemisms and once Pete had got over the initial shock he had methodically gone through the main points of the case and why Barry had done what he had done.

When he finished there was silence as all in the room held their breath and waited to see how Pete would react.

Tears were running down his face as he looked into the fire.

'That stupid idiot…my beautiful, stupid idiot. I never knew…never really saw what I was doing to him and I should have. I should have told him every day what he meant to me. All those affairs they were just physical, just sex…but Barry, he was my love, my home. God, what have I done?'

Evie stood and poured him a shot of brandy from a small bottle that she kept in her kitchen cupboard and he downed it in one.

'I'll never forgive myself for this…never. Those deaths aren't just on Barry, they're on me.'

If he was waiting for someone to disabuse him of that fact then he was disappointed because all the others could do was watch on in silence. Molly was glad that for once Sherlock did not make the situation worse by adding some scathing comment but even he must have realised that pouring more guilt on Pete at that time would be dangerous.

In the end he agreed to go back to the Manor House with Dr Piper and to spend the night there, Molly knew they all acknowledged that he shouldn't be left alone for a while.

As Molly's aunt closed the door behind them the three seemed to exhale, the worst was behind them.

 **We're not finished just yet, a couple more chapters to go. I'll be back Friday, hopefully, with the next one. Let me know your thoughts on the chapter, the story or your holidays xx**


	18. Chapter 18

**I know, I know I said I'd post yesterday but I got distracted by my sick cat. She's very old and we're keeping our fingers crossed for some new medication from the vets because we don't want to lose her. Thank you for all your birthday and new year wishes and I hope you like the chapter xx**

 **Chapter 18**

Her aunt switched on some quiet music, Christmas carols sung by a boys choir, and then she sat back down in her chair.

'Well, what a Christmas Day. I don't think I've ever had one that comes close for drama and intrigue. There's no need for me to watch the latest Agatha Christie tonight when worse has been playing out in front of me.' She sighed and shook her head before glancing over at them. 'At least it hasn't all been bad news. Finally seeing you two together has warmed my old heart.'

Molly ducked her head shyly before looking up at Sherlock. He used the arm that was already around her shoulder to pull her a little closer before kissing her then he turned back to her aunt. 'Well it wasn't without a kick up the backside from you. And you were quite right with your advice.'

Molly frowned in confusion, looking back and forth between Sherlock and her aunt, waiting for one of them to enlighten her. It was Sherlock who carried on speaking. 'She just made me see what I'd always missed. I thought that a relationship...that being with you…would be bad for you, and maybe I'm still right on that…'

Molly couldn't help the hollow pit of concern that opened up in her stomach at the idea of him ending things with her to try to protect her and she opened her mouth to protest but he carried on.

'…but it's to late now. I…I love you Molly Hooper and that's never going to change and I can't go back to being without you now. So, you see you're stuck with me whether you like it or not.'

She shook her head smiling widely now. 'I love you too, I always have and I always will and being with you is the best Christmas present I could ever have hoped for. Merry Christmas Sherlock.'

'Merry Christmas Molly Hooper.' He bent his head to kiss her again and this time she felt herself getting lost in it. Right up until the point that her aunt cleared her throat making the two of them move apart, both looking slightly abashed.

'So who's for more hot chocolate then and maybe a slice of Christmas cake? My desserts were hardly touched given everything that went on today so there's lots need eating up.

Both of them accepted and enjoyed the remainder of their Christmas evening. When they finally made it to bed both of them were too tired and exhausted to do much more than hold each other close as they fell asleep and in the morning they were woken by the arrival of police from the mainland wanting to see Charlie's body and understand exactly what had taken place.

They spent the rest of the day running through the events of the last 48 hours and answering endless questions until Sherlock vented his frustrations and exasperation to Lestrade over the phone…insisting that he do something with the idiots that had been sent over for them to work with.

Molly snickered as she heard Lestrade protesting that they were nothing to do with him but Sherlock didn't let up insisting that he do something.

He finally agreed to travel back to the mainland with the police and the body and meet Lestrade but that left Molly with a dilemma. Whether to travel back with him or stay on with her aunt as she'd originally intended. She had an irrational feeling that if she let him leave without her he'd change his mind…that they'd go back to just being friends which would be all the worse for knowing what it was like to be loved by him. She knew she was being stupid but she just couldn't shake it.

He must have sensed her concern because he stopped packing his meagre belongings and walked around to where she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

'What's up?'

She smiled wanly feeling a bit stupid but he put one finger under her chin and lifted her head until she looked him in the eye. She saw him narrowing his own eyes as he tried to deduce what was wrong.

'You're worried for some reason…some reason to do with me. Tell me.' He sat down next to her.

'It's stupid.'

He smirked. 'I expect so but tell me anyway.'

She shrugged and wrapped her hand around his wrist lifting his finger so she could kiss the end of it, watching as his eyes dilated a little.

'I just feel like when you leave you're going to think you've made a mistake…and that you'll want to end things when I get back to London.'

He gave her a wry smile. 'Well you did tell me it was stupid and I agree…very stupid.'

That had her lightly punching his chest but he took her in his arms, knowing he needed to reassure her…that her lack of faith in him...in them, was his fault.

'Why do you think I came here so easily? Why do you think I engineered sleeping in your bed with you rather than you sleeping on the settee? And why do you think I told you I loved you **twice** during that phone call that my sister forced on us. It was then that I truly realised how I felt and I've been coming to terms with it ever since. It changed everything for me, how I saw myself, the future that I thought I would have. Now I can't imagine not having you in it and I will be asking you to move into Baker St when we get back.'

She pulled back and away from him with a look of astonishment on her face. 'What?'

'You heard me Molly…and I expect to start straight away so you might as well come to mine when you get back to London on Friday. You can stay with me for New Year, it's not as though I have any other plans, I hate all the useless celebration at this time of year.'

Molly laughed at his not unexpected outburst but she felt a warm glow spreading across her chest at the thought of spending a lifetime with him. It was soon muted though by the pain of kissing him goodbye on the docks and watching the police boat as it chugged away on the choppy waters. She stayed and watched until he was just a speck on the horizon and then she trudged her way back up to her aunt's. She was determined to enjoy her last few days on the island and that was starting with a delayed Christmas meal that evening with her aunt and with those left that weren't in mourning.

It seemed there was one family at least that were celebrating. Her friend Kirsty had finally found the courage to throw her abusive husband out and they were also coming to terms with the fact that her father had inherited the Conan estate through their Saunders connection. As Molly sat with them over the meal watching her aunt and Kirsty's dad she knew wouldn't be surprised if there would soon be a wedding announcement. She smiled; it would be good for her aunt to find a new chance of love even if it was late in life.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Three days later and she wearily watched as the train made its way into London. It had taken her ten hours to get back because of some maintenance on the lines around Birmingham and she couldn't wait to be back home.

Sherlock had been nagging her to come straight round to Baker St but she felt she needed at least one night in her own flat to sort out her washing, spend some time with Toby and catch up in some sleep after the journey. She could almost hear him sulking from the tone of his texts though and part of her was tempted to just head straight round.

It was the right decision though, she wouldn't have been much company and there was a lot to do sorting out her things and repacking for a couple of nights at Baker St. as she set off late the following morning, New Year's Eve, she didn't even try to damp down the bubble of excitement in her chest at the thought of spending a couple of days with him undisturbed. She wasn't due back into work until the 3rd Jan so they had ages.

It was chilly and snowy as she made her way up to his front door. Not as bad as on the island but winter had definitely come to Baker St. it was Sherlock who answered the door and she was amazed at how her heart flipped as she saw him and she wondered if that feeling would ever go away...she hoped not.

He kissed her on the cheek, smirking as he did, then her took her small weekend bag and led her up the stairs.

She barely made it through the door before he deposited the bag on the settee and turned to kiss her more thoroughly, his hands either side of her face.

'I have missed you more than I ought to have Molly Hooper. I expected you last night and I still can't believe that you stayed away. You'll have to make up for lost time.'

Even as he spoke he was removing her coat and unwrapping her scarf, throwing it on the floor behind him before attacking her neck. As he sucked the skin below her ear into his warm mouth she could feel his hands under her jumper pulling her t shirt from her jeans and she felt her own desire for him rising up. God, he wasn't even giving her a chance to think.

She moaned as she felt his hands on the bare skin of her back and she suddenly realised how much she needed to feel him naked against her. As they kissed once more she started to undo the buttons on his dark blue shirt pushing it off his shoulders as soon as she was able to. They paused for a moment so he could pull her jumper and t shirt over her head; then as he undid the cuffs of his shirt she started on the fastenings of his trousers. Seeing his erection already straining through the material had a flood of arousal clenching the muscles deep inside her. She wanted to feel him, she wanted to taste him.

She moved him around slightly so he was against the wall and then she dropped to her knees in front of him. She heard him let out a groan as she pulled his cock out of his shorts and his hands started to grip her hair lightly. She couldn't resist looking up at him as she let her tongue swirl around the head of his erection and she could see the blatant desire and arousal looking back at her. Seeing him like that had her wanting to touch herself. She had never expected to see him so aroused.

Slowly she took him into her mouth, teasing both of them with the pace she was setting. He tasted fresh and clean with a tang from the pre cum that was starting to leak out of him. His hips were gently rocking towards her forcing him deeper into her mouth even as she knew he was trying to hold back and she could hear him swearing and moaning with the effort it was taking. It wasn't long before he pulled away from her breathing heavily and begging her to stop. She didn't want to though and so she took hold of him again.

This time when she looked up at him his eyes were dark and hooded and she knew that he wouldn't have the will power to pull away again.

She could feel him pulsing against her tongue as she took him as deep as she could and she knew he wouldn't be able to hold out for that much longer. She wanted to undo her jeans and reach in to touch herself but her hands were too occupied and the frustration just made her want him more.

His hands were back in her hair and she could hear his voice sounding hoarse as he muttered a final 'fuck' and then he was coming in her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could knowing some was leaking out and down her throat. Her own internal muscles were clenching and unclenching and she knew she was close to orgasming herself. She couldn't wait until his hands were on her...satisfying her and claiming her as his own.

 **But...I'm going to make you wait a day or so for that...sorry, not sorry ;). Only one more chapter to go – will you miss them? xx**


	19. Chapter 19

**The final chapter, it always seems to weird getting to the end of another fic. I remember getting the idea for this so many months ago and now it's at an end. Parting is such sweet sorrow!**

 **Chapter 19**

It seemed that even after ejaculating Sherlock was still wanting more because he slid to the floor in front of her and then drew him to her for another kiss. His tongue was tangling with hers and she knew she was moaning and desperate.

His hands came up behind her back and quickly divested her of her bra and then he was pushing her down onto the floor as he moved his mouth to her breasts but not before he'd licked his way down her neck sweeping up the remains of his orgasm. She had never known any guy to do anything remotely like tasting themselves and she thought it was probably the single most erotic thing that she had ever experienced.

As his mouth explored her breasts his hand was moving further south and he soon had her jeans undone before pushing his hand inside her knickers.

She couldn't believe that she was lying on the floor of his front room with his fingers pushing inside her. Already she was feeling her orgasm starting, that delicious buzz in her brain that always started first, making her able to focus on nothing apart from the sensations in her body.

The heel of his palm was rocking against her clit as he pushed deeper inside her and she was letting out moan after moan. This time it was her hands in his hair; feeling those soft, silky strands running through her fingers. She let out a final cry as she came, pushing up against him enjoying the feel of his skin against her own but still she wanted more, she wanted to feel him inside her, fucking her...joined together in mutual need.

He withdrew his hand and she felt achy and empty but she could feel the weight of him on top of her as he kissed her again and instinctively she brought her legs up around him as his body rocked against her own.

Finally he broke the kiss and as he looked down at her, his arms resting either side of her head, and she felt the intensity of his gaze. It struck her all over again that it was really Sherlock that she was in a relationship with. She didn't have to fantasise anymore; she had the reality.

'Bedroom or by the fire?'

The bedroom just seemed too far away so instead he put a throw down on the floor in between his chair and John's and after he had divested himself of his clothes he slowly pulled Molly's jean and knickers down her legs leaving her naked in front of him.

She could feel the warmth from the fire against her skin but his eyes on her body seemed to be heating her from the inside out. She loved seeing him naked; being able to touch his body and explore him.

For the first time they had time; time to just be together and they made the most of it. He kissed his way up her legs, his fingers dancing and sliding their way across her skin, leaving sensitive trails in their wake. And when he finally sank down between her thighs and put his mouth on her she could feel a second orgasm building. His tongue seemed to be touching her in all the right places and all she could do was hold onto the throw as he explored every inch of her. What tipped her over the edge though was looking down and seeing him there. He glanced up at her catching her eye and her climax seemed to hit her like a train.

As she came down he moved over her but she stopped him when he moved to enter her and she saw the confusion on his face. It quickly vanished though when she motioned for him to lie down.

He did as she asked and she sat astride him feeling his now hardened cock underneath her, his hands on her thighs but she wanted to explore his body first. She started with his neck and throat. She had spent many a day in Barts watching him leaning over a microscope or writing down notes and all she had ever wanted was to be able to kiss her way down it and so that's what she did.

She kissed every mole and freckle. Sucking the skin into her mouth knowing she was marking him but just not caring. She wanted him marked, she wanted the world to know that he was hers and she his.

She kissed along his collar bones and his shoulders, she laughed when she let her hands move across his ribs only to find that he was ticklish. Her mouth found his nipples and she kissed each in turn as his hands twisted in her hair and all the time she could feel him pulsing under her and the teasing had her wanting him all over again until she couldn't wait any longer.

They kissed once more and his hands were on her breasts squeezing and kneading the skin or swiping his thumbs across her sensitive nipples. As they broke apart they were both breathing heavily and she could see how dilated his eyes were. Seeing him looking so aroused made her want to spend her life pleasuring him.

She reached between them and moved slightly so she could position him at her entrance and then she slowly sank down onto his length letting out a moan as she felt him stretching her so deliciously. She saw his eyes roll back a bit at the sensation and it just turned her on even more.

At first she set a slow pace as she rocked against him but as his head came up to capture one of her nipples in his warm mouth her need for him increased and she pushed back harder against him.

His hands were on her backside pushing her on to him as his hips lifted to meet her every movement and she knew that she couldn't last. This beautiful, talented man was going to make her come for an unprecedented third time and it was the best orgasm yet. It seemed to roll across her body in waves and as she cried out his name she fleetingly wondered how much more her body could take.

She was still enjoying the aftershocks when he came himself almost lifting her fully off the floor with the impact of his thrust. Every muscle in his body seemed to tense as she felt his seed spilling inside her and in that moment she wanted him to get her pregnant. She wanted to feel his child within her, the two of them forever joined as one.

She collapsed down onto him as they both tried to catch their breath and his hands roamed across her back before holding her against him in a tight hug. She felt him kissing her neck and she lifted her head just enough that they could kiss once more. The immediate passion might have gone but the emotion in that kiss almost made her cry as did hearing him telling her he loved her.

'God, Sherlock, I love you too...always...always.'

Ten minutes later and they were sat on his chair, her on his knee with his arm around her waist, drinking wine. She was wearing one of his dressing gowns and he was in his pyjama bottoms and Molly couldn't remember ever feeling happier.

They were chatting about the coming week and Sherlock was poutingly trying to persuade her to move in when there was the sound of a key unlocking the door downstairs.

Molly started to sit up but Sherlock tugged her back. 'Ignore it. It's just Mrs Hudson.'

She listened as she heard the older woman coming in downstairs and she suddenly realised that Sherlock's flat door was open and she'd been quite vocal during sex. She was glad now that they hadn't been overheard.

Sherlock was starting to carry on their conversation when Molly felt him tense up under her and she saw him putting his wine down.

She looked at him in confusion as he started to move them both off the chair. 'What is it?'

Even as she spoke she finally heard what he had; people on the stairs...lots of people from the sound of it.

They had barely managed to stand up when Mrs Hudson came in the room flicking on the light as she came. 'Oo ooo Sherlock. Oh, Molly...what are you...'

Her voice trailed off as it sank in to the newly assembled crowd just what Sherlock and Molly had been doing. Molly would have laughed if she hadn't been so mortified as she glanced around at the faces of their friends; Lestrade, Anderson, Mike Stamford and his wife.

The only one not entirely shocked was John who was carrying Rosie and he stepped forwards to fill the silence.

'Hey, umm...sorry to bother you both...we were going to have New Years at mine, you remember I texted you about it...anyway the power has gone out so Mrs H suggested coming here. Didn't know you were back Molly, hope you don't mind.'

Sherlock started to grumble that he did mind but Molly's natural politeness kicked in as she started to feel sorry for the shocked gathering stood in Sherlock's doorway.

'No, it's fine. Come on in. Erm...just let me get that clothing off the floor.' Molly knew she was blushing as she hurriedly picked up hers and Sherlock's clothes that were still strewn across the floor but she couldn't help smiling at Sherlock's huff of frustration behind her.

'Right, just let me get changed and I'll be back out to help.'

She hurried her way to Sherlock's bedroom and she was half way through dressing when he opened the door and strode in, making her squeak with shock.

'Tell me again why we have to put up with this.'

She turned and smiled to him as she did her bra up, trying not to feel embarrassed at him watching her...she'd had sex with him, multiple times, but this seemed so domestic and she wasn't used to it.

'Because they're our friends and it's New Year...you should always spend New Year's Eve with friends. It'll be fun.'

He slowly walked over to her and her breath caught in her throat as he looked down on her. 'I know what I'd rather be doing Molly.'

As he spoke he let one finger trail down from her neck down the centre of her breasts and then his mouth was on hers and she had to struggle to maintain her grasp on the current situation.

With difficulty and not wanting to she lightly pushed on his chest until he moved away. 'Later...they won't be here that long. Come on, get dressed.'

As he did she couldn't help glancing at him, revelling in being able to see the long line of his body, his flat stomach and tight backside. Even encased in his normal suit and shirt he still turned her on and it took all of her willpower to walk out of his bedroom and away from him.

The others had been to work in the front room and there was music playing, soft lighting and food laid out on the kitchen table. Thankfully a gold table cloth had been put over it otherwise Molly wasn't sure whether she would have eaten anything given what she knew Sherlock had probably done on it with his experiments.

She grabbed a plate and some nibbles as she suddenly realised how hungry she was and then she went to retrieve her glass of wine and socialise. Unsurprisingly every topic of conversation seemed to centre on her newfound relationship with Sherlock. She spent the whole time explaining how he'd joined her on her island holiday, solved the murders and how, in the meantime, they had got together. Thankfully most people, including Mycroft who turned up late, were positive about the development.

As midnight approached they turned the radio to the countdown and Molly was about to look for Sherlock when she felt him walk up behind her and put his hands on her hips and his lips on her neck. 'John informs me that it's traditional to kiss your partner at midnight. He's also a bit miffed that I didn't know that already. However, this is one tradition that I approve of so I don't plan on deleting it again anytime soon.'

Molly smiled as she turned in his arms hearing the countdown starting as the others in the room started to join in.

'I plan on keeping you to that. Happy New Year Sherlock.'

He lets his lips quirk up in that smile that always melted her heart and he answered her with a 'Happy New Year Molly Hooper' then his lips were on hers as she heard the fireworks going off both on the radio and in the nearby streets. She didn't know much but one thing she did know was that this was going to be her best year yet!

 **I'm sorry I didn't manage to time this so it would get to you on New Year's Day but hopefully it's better late than never. Give me a final present with your last review.**

 **As for the future there are more stories in the offing and I'll be back later this month with a new one. Until then take care xx**


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